Twisting Reality
by Reigen Doki
Summary: Buzz's little observation leads to a heap of trouble for Lassie and Shawn, full summary inside. Rated for safety.
1. Chapter 1

-1I don't own Psych. Don't read if you can't stand slash or making fun of slash fans.

Summary: Officer McNab never claimed to be the most observant man on the force, but when his one little observation sends the department in a downward spiral of fandom, how will our favorite psychic and head detective cope?

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The sun was shinning, birds sang, the office was busy with working people, and Head Detective Lassiter's coffee was hot, very hot actually, Buzz noticed. Fortunately it was him wincing from the hot liquid seeping through his shirt, rather than the pretty blond who he had nearly walked into. "Sorry Detective O'Hara, I wasn't watching where I was going." She grinned slightly and shook her head. "No problem. What were you looking at?" He gestured towards the broody head detective's desk.

Currently the resident psychic was laying on it, twitching in show to the people for whom he was demonstrating his abilities, much to Carlton Lassiter's great displeasure. The older man was feebly attempting to drag the twitching brunette off of his desk without scattering its contents. It was to no avail as the younger jumped off spilling the papers all over the floor as he shouted out some information he had just divined. "That's nothing new Buzz." He simply smiled. "I know, that's what's so great about it."

She simply cocked her head to the side, not sure what he meant. He nodded back over to the desk, where people were clearing away slowly and Lassiter was picking up his things. As she raised an eyebrow McNab sighed. "He's smiling." The junior detectives eyes widened to the size of saucers as she saw a light smile slip into that trade mark grimace they had all come to know. "But why?" Buzz felt like slamming his head into a wall, instead he motioned for her to follow him as he walked towards the desks.

It didn't take long for the discussion to be clear enough to hear. "…but Lassie!" You would have had to be deaf not to hear the older man's teeth grind together. "No Spencer. I'm not giving you my handcuffs." That puppy whine soon followed, notably causing the detective to tense. "If I don't have cuffs, how am I supposed to apprehend the bad guys? Or enjoy a date?" Choosing to ignore the last comment, Lassie sat back down to straiten the things on his desk. Shawn turned the other way with a huff.

This time Juliet O'Hara was watching close enough to catch the small smile on her own. _Oh dear lord! That can't possibly be!_ The other officer had already moved forward, extending the coffee as a peace offering. "It's about time McNab! What are you staring at O'Hara?" The blond blinked surprised at the sudden mood shift. "Hey! Jules! Maybe I can talk you into letting me use you handcuffs." The fake psychic waggled his eyebrows. She just rolled her eyes. "Actually, I need to talk to Buzz, so if you'll excuse me." She quickly dragged the man away by his arm.

"What the hell was that," she whispered harshly, eyes still locked on the two at Lassiter's desk. "That's called a smile." She shifted her gaze to glare at him. "Believe it or not, Detective Lassiter likes Shawn's company." The oh really look she gave implied a want for more information. "Lassie, Detective Lassiter, is almost protective of Shawn and likewise, Shawn does his best to make him laugh." She frowned outright at this. "Aside from him, Gus, the Chief, and Mr. Spencer, Lassiter doesn't let anyone talk down to Shawn. He's even shown him off to the kids in the academy." Juliet stared over Buzz's shoulder in shock at the two men, still bickering.

The scariest thing was that McNab was right. Regrettably he found himself being dragged towards Chief Vick's office by a gleeful Detective O'Hara. Jules pushed open the door with no regard for the people in the room. After shoving Buzz in, she quickly pulled it shut and turned back to the room. Buzz stood, uncomfortably shifting side to side. The Chief started to rise from her chair with a frown on her face, and the two officers she was speaking to stared in surprise. With badly contained excitement Juliet strode across the room to Chief Vick.

"Is something wrong O'Hara?" The younger woman took deep, long breaths in order to calm herself before taking. "Buzz has great news!" She still bounced in place as she spoke. "I do?" This caused the attention of the room to shift to him. "Officer McNab? What's the news?" He shifted again, not sure he should be telling everyone. "It isn't really news, exactly." "Shawn makes Lassie happy!" Jules punctuated her sentence with a small scream. The Chief looked back and forth between the two for some way to grasp what she was just told. "Your joking right?" "No! Let Buzz explain." Once again all eyes were on him. After he had explained it, twice, the officers in the room hurried to the glass door to stare out it at the two in question.

Again the feeling that made him wasn't to slam his head into a wall started creeping in. It wasn't that important to him, or that hard to see. He noted that Lassiter had stopped his work and was now looking at Chief Vick's office with confusion and anger. Seeing this the officers backed away from the door and pretended to be chatting about something. Suddenly Vick turned to Buzz. "How long has this been happening?" He shrugged. "I noticed it a few months ago. Honestly I haven't seen anything that would point to them realizing that they are good friends." The two women gasped in shock.

"It's a shame," one officer piped in, "they're actually kind of cute together." He blushed at the four sets of eyes staring in disbelief. Three soon turned into various forms of excitement and the last, McNab's, was utter confusion. The chief quickly coughed to get everyone's attention. "Well, we should probably get back to work. Make sure not to say anything to them, we don't want to disturb their privacy." She smiled at the three officers that walked out before turning to the perky blond that had first dropped this information in front of her. "We can't leave this alone, we all know how stubborn Carlton is. We have to get those two together." Juliet bounced up and down with a small scream of agreement.

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Gus was fairly surprised to find the department so busy. He knew most of it was the last case they had just solved being wrapped up, but there also seemed to be another thing putting a devious smile on people's face. Also to his surprise, he hadn't seen Shawn yet. He started towards Vick's office, almost sure he could find Shawn's location from there. He knocked lightly on the door, turning to note that Lassiter wasn't currently at his desk.

To his surprise he was quickly dragged into the office by a smiling Juliet. "I'm so glad to see you Gus. We were trying to figure out Shawn's favorite color." He frowned not sure what was going on. "Where is he," it seemed like a logical question. "Keeping Lassie company." Gus paused, that was strange. "Um…His favorite color is green." They smiled at each other creepily, causing him to shift his weight to the foot closer to the door, making it easier to run away if necessary.

"Where were you?" He shrugged. "At work. Shawn had let me take the day doing actual work. He was busy with some small cases he said. When I got back to the office he had left a note saying he was heading off for a finally case of the day, but would probably hang out here for a while." Jules seemed shocked that Shawn would go on a case without his helpful friend. Vick seemed more shocked that Gus would let him. "I trust him not to get into to much trouble, now was that all you needed?"

"How well can you keep things from Shawn?" Another strange thing. "Well, even though he's psychic, he can be pretty dense." He laughed nervously, not sure what he was getting into. "The spirits can show him a lot, but if you cover it up well without acting any different, you can for the most part keep him from trying to tune in spiritually." At this Vick raised an eyebrow. "Trying to tune in? You mean it's optional?" Gus quickly raised his hands defensively. "No! Not exactly! A lot of times he doesn't get a choice when a spirit finds it can communicate through him, but he can also ask the spirits to show him things." He suddenly felt filthy for having to lie like that.

Juliet smiled, thinking that could come in handy later, and explained a lot about Shawn. Vick offered him water since he looked so pale. Another thought occurred to the young blond detective. "Is he Bi?" Gus nearly spit out the water he was now choking on. Where had that come from? She grinned apologetically at the poor man now reduced to gasping for air. Having caught his breath his, he now stared incredulously at the girl. Finally a thought occurred to him. "Um… Sort of." That made the Chief frown too. It was obvious he needed to continue. "Well, he's never hooked up with any guys that I'm aware of, but he has no problem with homosexuals. And obviously he is secure enough to tease, any guy he knows, about it." She smiled again, it was really beginning to creep him out.

"So. Where is Shawn?" As the words left his mouth he heard a loud shout coming from the main offices. That could only be Lassiter, annoyed by the perky psychic. The three rushed out to find Lassie glaring at the man who was drinking from his coffee cup. The man grinned as he saw his partner in crime staring at him from across the room. He set down Lassiter's cup as he walked over ignoring the protests of the people he was entertaining. "Hey there Gussy. Sup?"

Gus grinned, finally out of the clutched of the two women. "Not much. Having fun?" A nod was his response. "He's been hanging around for a couple hours now. " Burton Guster turned around to see an agitated head detective standing behind him. "Kindly remove him from my sight." A giggle from Jules caught the three men's attention. She quickly stifled it. "Oh! Who wants to have their palms read?" Gus sighed as Shawn sat down on, rather than at, Lassie's desk and directed people to sit in Lassiter's chair to have a reading. Jules was the first one he pulled towards the chair, and she quickly refused, as did Vick who he offered to next.

"Buzz! Good buddy, you'll let me read your palm, right?" He was suspicious of the two women's behavior, but knew better than to force it, he'd figure it out later. Buzz sat uncomfortably in Lassie's chair, much to the detective's displeasure. Shawn took a quick look over the man as he handed him his hands. He pretend to study the other's hands intently as he kept his eyes closed. "Ah! The spirits around you are shaking! Cold? No, it's something else, their nervous." Buzz nearly drew his hands back. "For more reason than one," the fake psychic whispered. "I hear thunder. Ah! NO! It's a gun! " His voice was back at its max.

"Your training for upcoming qualifications!" Buzz nodded, not knowing Shawn had made time earlier to look through his desk calendar. He noticed black cat hair all over McNab's pants, not like the cat he had given him, and small holes at the bottom. "Meow mix! Ah, midnight…..A kitten, a black kitten! And a cake! Your wife's birthday is coming up! You want to surprise her!" Buzz smiled at that, while Shawn stopped his squirming to pant as though he had just ran a marathon. "Yeah. She liked the cat you got her so much, and was talking about getting it a little friend, so I'm going to give her a black kitten for her birthday."

The room filled with clapping as Shawn raised his hands triumphantly in the air. He began his process with another person, ignoring that Lassiter was becoming impatient with his inability to work. When the brunette psychic began wiggling, he accidentally pushed Lassie's stapler off the desk. Without a thought the older man grabbed it out of the air and set it back on his desk. Shawn stopped his twitchy vision when a heavy hand came to rest on his shoulder. "As much as I enjoy you parading around as a psychic, if you don't stop wiggling your ass against my desk, you'll knock something else off." Shawn grinned apologetically as he went to stand.

"Hey! How about you give Detective Lassiter a reading?" Everyone cheered in agreement with Chief Vick's statement, except for Lassiter. Despite his protests he found himself pushed into his chair, staring up at the green eyed man. Reluctantly he gave the grinning psychic his hands, palm down. The younger man didn't even bother looking at the palms as he placed his hands palm up against Lassiter's. Shawn slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He quickly ran over the things he noticed: deep circles under the eyes, little sleep; rough calluses on the palms, from holding onto some kind of bar; a bandage on his trigger finger, a cut or blister from overusing; and most importantly the brand of bullets in his desk weren't from the police range, he was going elsewhere to shoot. He pretended to flinch, as if being slapped by some unseen force. "You're still worried….About the case we just solved." It occurred to Jules that he had said we, not I, but he may have been referring to him and Gus. Shawn knew Lassie rolled his eyes, even though he couldn't see it. Another violent jerk.

"You look for distractions! OH!" He flinched again, with gasps from the crowd, this was too easy. "I can see you, you're lifting weights, hoping, AH, that you'll be too tired when you get home to stay awake, to tired to dream." Lassiter shifted uncomfortably, but Shawn wasn't done. Another scream had the crowed riveted. "There is a range by the gym you go to! You, AHHHHH, have been going there every night!" It was a fairly safe bet, that seemed to ring true. Shawn snapped his head back to the front and opened his eyes. He was staring into Lassie's blue eyes, almost unnervingly with his strange, sad look.

"It's killing you." He didn't have to say what, they both knew. Lassie stood up slowly, yanking his hands away from the younger man. "You're not psychic, so don't try to talk about what you don't understand." Everyone stood in an uncomfortable silence as Lassiter walked away. Shawn quickly coughed into his hand. "Oh well, back to work." He then turned to the Chief as people began dispersing. "He's worried, bad. It's getting to him that he sees all of these murder cases." He knew that from the fact that Lassie had almost puked at the last one they were at. "He needs a vacation." The chief smiled. "Then we should give him one."

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Wow…long chapter for me. This is just something else for me to do, don't worry if you read any of my others, I'm still working on them.


	2. Chapter 2

Still not owning. Enjoy.

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Gus never asked much from Shawn, a few, simple rules that he wished his friend would follow, and for the most part he did. No trips out of the country without a designated adult, no chocolate pineapple surprise smoothies, shenanigans at their minimum, no setting him up with people(one he never has followed), no trips to the spa that end with him waxed or otherwise in a compromising position with a beautiful woman, and, perhaps the most important thing, no waking him up before five thirty. That is why he was more than furious to find that, having been woken by a strange noise at four thirty, a whole hour early, and creeping out prepared to brain a burglar with his pharmaceutical bag, Shawn sat on his counter, holding a strangely yellow-brown smoothie.

The brunette psychic had only started laughing, wondering just how many times Gus had tried to hit him with that case. One of these days, he was going to actually do it out of frustration. "What do you want at four thirty in the morning?" Shawn grinned offering him the smoothie that looked suspiciously like chocolate pineapple surprise. He shook his head to say no, still glaring. "Fine, Chief says she has a case for us and we need to be their by five," he sighed as he jumped off of the counter.

Suspicious as always, Gus eyed him in minor disbelief. "Really? And why would she want us their so early?" Again the psychic shrugged. "Said it was important." He nodded slowly. "Let me get dressed," he snatched the smoothie from the psychic and took a long draught through the straw. His face twisted in an ugly grimace and took on a green hue. Today's surprise was cheddar cheese.

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They walked into the police office two minutes past five, delayed only because Gus had poured out Shawn's smoothie and the brunette hadn't stopped whining until he got another, without the chocolate and cheese. A large crowd was gathered in front of the chief's office and the sound of a fist colliding with a wall resonated through the building. "That's an order Lassiter. Now stop hitting my walls and deal with it." Shawn and Gus were now close enough to see the enraged man glaring down his boss. Ignoring him, she turned to see Shawn and smiled. "Mr. Spencer, your late."

He nodded slowly, not sure he wanted to get close enough to be in the angry detective's reach. "Yeah, sorry. Gus threw out my delicious smoothie, so I needed another." His green eyes never left the fuming man who's back was turned from him as he tried to calm himself. "Well, I actually need your help." Lassiter's shoulders tensed as she said this, obviously not pleased that the psychic was to be included in some case. Gus elbowed him hard in the side, causing him to look in his direction, and at the chief. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Carlton.

"I can't believe your doing this to me!" Shawn jumped, along with several other people at the shout. Vick only rolled her eyes and looked at the dark-haired man. "Stop arguing Lassiter. You are taking the week off and that is final." The head detective clenched his jaw furiously, trying not to say something he would regret. Gus and his partner in crime both looked in shock at the chief, surprised that she had made Lassiter, of all people, take a vacation. "Um…" He didn't want to interrupt, but the fake psychic was beginning to get nervous about staying there too long. He simply wanted to know his job so he could get far away from the conversation.

She turned to him with a sickly sweet smile. "Shawn, for the rest of the week I am assigning you to ensure that Lassiter stays away from any police work." The three men stood gawking at the unbelievable request. Surely she didn't mean that Shawn was Lassie's babysitter? "You are to also make sure he relaxes some." Yup, he was a babysitter, again. "Um, no disrespect Ma'am, but are you sure this is a good idea," Gus was the first to recover. She smiled at him and nodded. Lassiter hadn't move from his position, eyes wide and hand uselessly at his sides. Shawn's look seemed much more mischievous, though equally surprised.

Gus glanced at the two before turning back to the Chief. "Can I speak with you in private?" He followed Vick to her office and quickly shut the door behind him. Whirling around to face her, he was surprised to find Juliet in the room as well. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out they had planed it together. "What are you two doing? As if they aren't at each other's throats enough, your sticking them together for a week?" Juliet and Vick glanced at each other and started to laugh. "I hardly think they'll be at each other's throats, unless….." Jules started to giggle wildly and Vick smiled at that.

The dark assistant to the psychic suddenly felt like he had stepped into the twilight zone. Their conversation from the previous day was played over rather quickly as he tried to guess what was going on. A certain question leapt out in his mind and bored and uncomfortable hole in his skull. _OH MY GOD! They couldn't possibly…._ Even as he tried to deny it, his mind put together all of the things they had said and done recently and it made too much sense. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open as the two girls watched, thoroughly entertained.

"Shawn and LASSIE!" He shouted in a whisper, which made it sound like he was speaking normally, but much more urgently. Jules grinned and nodded. "Their good for each other Mr. Guster." He shook his head in disbelief at the Chief's words. "No, no, no. You can't be serious." He place his head in his hands. "That is so, so, so, so wrong." To his surprise he found himself confronted by the two women. "You are not to tell them anything." He nodded slowly, stunned. "I hope you know I'm going to have nightmares." Even the chief chuckled at that.

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"Leave me alone Spencer." Shawn, seeing he wouldn't be able to listen in on Gus' conversation, had been teasing the head detective about being made to take a break. The chief's door flew open and Gus stomped out, oddly red. Jules caught his shoulder and whispered something to him, which caused him to nod. That had caught the fake psychic's interest. "Hey Shawn! I've got to get on my way to work now. Let me do my job today." The brunette frowned. "Then what am I supposed to do?" Gus pointed a finger at the Head Detective who looked extremely bored. "Your job Shawn." Lassiter narrowed his eyes at the other man, obviously annoyed.

"I hope you realize I hate you right now Mr. Guster." He only nodded in response and started away. "And Shawn? Mrs. Pickles is on vacation for a week," he added as an afterthought. Shawn sighed and turned around to see Vick and Juliet standing there. "Alright Detective. I'll hope not to see you for a week." He nodded painfully to the chief, bitterly accepting his vacation. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, bye you two." Juliet hurried off to get started on a new case.

Shawn slung his arm around the detective's shoulders and smiled as they walked to the parking lot. "So Lassie? Have anything in mind for your vacation?" Blue-grey eyes settled in a deadly glare against the side of his head to which he had become impervious. "Ignoring you doesn't count?" Shawn laughed as the other man promptly removed his arm. "Don't worry. I'll plan your vacation for you. What day is today?" The older man gritted his teeth. "Saturday." "Perfect!" Again he stared incredulously at the psychic, wondering what caused all of that energy. "Um…Lassie….would you unlock your car? I don't have the keys." He tried not to smile as he watched the younger man tug futilely at the door.

He pushed the button on his key fob to unlock the doors as Shawn made to tug on it again. Much to his surprise, and Lassiter's entertainment, he fell backwards with a yelp as he released the open door, landing in a twisted heap on his butt. The older man did smile at that as he climbed into the driver's seat. The young brunette quickly stood up and sat down in the passenger's seat and grinned. "Lets get smoothies" The car started out of the parking lot as the two scheming women watched.

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Shawn ducked a smoothie thrown at his head. "Get back here Spencer!" Rather than returned to the screaming man, he darted forward and dove into the driver's seat. He quickly shut the door and locked it. A very pissed Lassiter pounded on the window with his fist, broken earlier on the chief's wall. "Give me back my keys, now!" Instead the brunette gestured towards the passenger seat. Slowly the older man walked around to the other side, his eyes never leaving the green ones that he was currently plagued with. The door came open with ease and he sat down slowly, not sure if he would be able to get to the young man before he sprinted out the door.

"Just listen Lassie, you'll thank me when I'm done. I promise. You just have to trust me." He stared at Shawn, not sure if he had heard right. "How am I supposed to trust you? All things aside, you just stole my keys." He shrugged and smiled, knowing that was Lassiter's way of saying yes. "I'm driving." Carlton tensed obviously not sure about that. "You know how to drive something with more that two wheels?" Shawn nodded and pulled a license out of his wallet to show the detective, who bit back a laugh. He was always full of surprises.

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"Where are we?" Lassie surveyed the area around him. He was in a half packed parking lot, apparently some large event was going on. In front of him was a large stadium. A banner hanging from it told him the event was taking place at seven. He glanced at his watch to see that it was almost six. Shawn started forward with a grin. "Come on. We need to get ready." Again the detective was frowning. "For what?" The young ,an simply trotted forward without response. With a sigh of acceptance, Lassiter followed.

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Well…with any luck the next chapter will be more entertaining, though the plot bunnies won't let me reveal anything. I have a reason for leaving them in Santa Barbra for Lassie's vacation. I seem to be writing really long chapters compared to usual for this story. Oh well. Hope to update soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Still not owning, as always. This is a less jumpy chapter, enjoy.

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Detective Carlton Lassiter was not having one of his greatest days. First, he was forced to take a week long vacation from the job he loved. Next he was forced to spend it with Shawn Spencer, the fake psychic. Then he had his pocket picked by the annoying brunette, and didn't even notice until the man was making a headlong dash for his car, keys in hand. Finally, he had agreed to let the annoyance take him to something he promised to be entertaining. It was no surprise that all of this had happened before eight in the morning.

He was currently standing uncomfortably in a large shop, attached to the stadium in which the even was going on in forty five minutes, not sure how Spencer had talked him into this, or what exactly 'this' was. He could partially guess based on the fact that the store was filled to the brim with paintball supplies. At the front desk, the psychic was speaking with a gnarled looking man, his face twisted into a sneer. It seemed he was in charge of this even, and knew Shawn well.

Lassiter looked around himself, disgusted slightly by the garish colors and tacky pictures covering the equipment. Who would use something with a neon cat on it? A laugh issued from the front desk, gravely and dry. It almost hurt Lassie's ears when he heard it. Turning around he saw Shawn grinning at the older man. The man narrowed his eyes and gestured for him to walk over. The detective obeyed, slowly.

"You two 'd better get yur selves ready. Yu'll wan'na be prepared."

The man's voice was thick and heavy, but it was the last thing on Carlton's mind. He was focused more on trying to understand why he had just had a bundle of items shoved in his arms and why he was being steered towards the locker rooms.

"Prepared for what? Spencer? Prepared for what?"

Shawn just smiled as he continued walking. In the locker room he headed off with his own items to a stall to change. Lassie had had enough though. He sat down stiffly on a bench and decided to wait for some kind of explanation. A minute or so latter, Shawn tumbled out of the stall, wearing pinstriped pants and a black tee-shirt. Dark sunglasses wrapped in a solid piece of glass around his face, covering his green eyes. He raised and eyebrow at the unchanged detective.

"Um…Lassie. I think you forgot something."

Lassiter sat cold eyed, arms crossed in front of his chest. Admittedly, he was now even more interested since he had no clue why Shawn would be wearing something like that. Shawn sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You need to change so you don't get paint all over your suit. Kids have a habit of shooting the refs."

Carlton leaned back in surprise, eyebrows knitted together. He was eyeing Shawn suspiciously, not sure if he was serious.

"You said you'd trust me."

He tensed and picked up the package. He had gotten him there, and he certainly wasn't going to give him fodder by going back on what he said. He quietly stepped into one of the stalls and locked the door. Opening the package he found a basic outfit like Shawn's. Also included was a cup, figures. He had guesses that he might just need it if the young brunette was telling the truth about kids being involved.

Shawn waited outside, putting his clothes in the locker given to him. He had gotten one for Lassie too. The psychic detective thought for a second about how his day was going. Lassiter wasn't like Gus. He probably wouldn't let him drag him around too much longer. It was odd enough, in Shawn's opinion, that Lassie had come this far without completely stopping and leaving or shooting him. Still, he wasn't going to stop. He had a job to do, assigned by the chief.

Lassiter opened the stall, his regular clothes in his arms. The striped pants fit comfortably to his surprise. H was going to ask Spencer how he knew his size, but he figured he already knew the answer he would get, lies or not. Shawn opened to locker for Lassie and grinned. He had guessed the detective's size. Well, it was less of a guess than and observation, but it still worked. He didn't try to hide his shock as Lassiter turned around.

Without the clothing in his way, he was able the full effects of Lassiter's worry. The black tee-shirt was stretched tight across his chest and stomach, the well worked muscles' outlines softened by the material.

"Dude. How do you do that?"

When Lassie raised an eyebrow, Shawn gestured to his body.

"It is so not fair. I can't do that."

The detective bit his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn't. Instead he shrugged.

"And just how do you workout?"

"Swim."

Carlton shook his head. He had barely finished his question before he got an answer. He figured the answer would be obvious if Spencer really did swim and he was yanking his chain. If not, well, Gus could explain it latter. He turned to leave the locker room and felt someone grab his arm to hold him back. Turning back around he saw Shawn looking rather angry.

"What?"

"You can't go out there with your holster on and a gun."

Lassie groaned and started to unfasten the shoulder holster. He had hoped that Shawn wouldn't notice. Still, he wasn't looking to cause trouble right now. Once he had placed it safely in his locker, his ammunition in a pocket, he glanced at his watch. It said six forty. Twenty minutes.

"Alright, Let's go over the rules real quick so you know what you need to do."

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Shawn slapped Lassie's arm as he stood. A quick glance at his watch told him it was almost seven. More now than ever he wished that he hadn't let Shawn talk him into teaching kids how to play paintball. While talking was just fine, he was going to have to go out there now and deal with young children. Even as he walked out into the stadium he remembered the last question he had asked.

"_Why would they just let us walk in and teach kids to play?"_

"_Actually, I've been planning on teaching them for a while. I had originally planned on bringing Gus though."_

The bright sun shone directly into his soft blue eyes as he stepped out into the arena. He quickly pulled on his sunglasses and surveyed the stadium. It was rather large and filled with obstacles and hiding places. Lined up in a messy row were kids ranging from five to twelve. Shawn was already heading towards the group with a grin. Lassie quickly walked up beside him to look over the ragtag group of children.

"Alright. Lets get started. First of all, we'll start and stop the game."

"Secondly. You are out if a paintball breaks on you or your equipment. You have to raise your gun up over your head as you walk over to the safe seats. You are not out if the paintball doesn't break or if the paint gets on you any other way than being directly hit. If you mark each other at the same time, your both out."

Shawn elbowed him in the gut, much to his displeasure. He had told Lassie the first thing they needed to do was explain the rules to the kids. However, he noticed the intimidated look on the kids face every time Lassie spoke.

"There is no shooting under a distance of five meters."

Again Shawn elbowed him and this time he turned. The brunette was glaring at him. He saw the trademark grin as the psychic turned back to the kids.

"As fun as it might look, you don't want to shoot me or Lassie. We'll sick giant monsters on you who will tickle you to death."

The five-year -old raised his hand slowly, looking ashamed. Shawn knelt down with a smile and asked him what he wanted to know. The boy whispered something in the psychics ear, his eyes never leaving Lassie. The brunette laughed at the boy's comment and ruffled his black hair. Much to Lassiter's annoyance, Shawn whispered his answer. The little boy started giggling and smiled. Suddenly Shawn stood and looked over the kids.

"Alright, lets begin."

The kids spread out as he and Carlton walked to the referee seats. They were raised up so that they could see the entire field, but were designed for easy access to the field incase of emergency. The kids loaded their guns and waited patiently for the whistle. Lassiter leaned away as Shawn blew the whistle as hard as he could, right next to his ear.

"So what was the kid asking you?"

"He wanted to know if you would save him if he got hurt, Lassie."

He groaned at that. Even though he hated to admit it, he was glad the kid wanted to know if he would save him, rather than the fake psychic. It was his job, after all, to defend people. He heard a snicker from the man next to him and realized something very important.

"What did you say to him?"

"Nothing."

"Spencer?"

"Yes?"

"What did you say? And don't say nothing. We both know that's a lie."

He was answered with a grin. It seemed that was the case with more than one thing. It was infuriating to Lassie how this man managed to keep so many things from him. He was a detective for Pete's sake. Shawn loved that he could get under his skin so easily. It wasn't like he had anything against Lassie, it was just too easy not to give him hell.

The dark haired detective turned back to the arena to watch a kid get hit square in the chest with a paint ball. Quietly he left the field. Shawn wasn't going to tell him anytime soon, but he had told the kid that Lassie was a superhero and was there just to save people. The boy had started laughing at the mental image of Lassiter in a superhero suit.

The game went for half an hour before there were only two kids left. The little five-year-old and a lanky ten-year-old stalked each other around the arena, staying hidden behind various blockades. Shawn turned from the arena as he saw Lassie stand up. He was watching the younger child with interest. The boy had placed a shoe at the edge of his barrier and was crawling to a different barrier. He was making his way around the other boy's position as he crawled forward, hoping to get a drop on the younger child.

Shawn didn't miss the smile on Lassiter's face as the ten-year-old stared in surprise at the shoe, lacking a child. The five-year -old raised up his weapon and shouted for the other to surrender. He was still partially behind a barrier, cautious incase of attack. Knowing he had lost, the older boy raised his gun above his head. Shawn blew the whistle to stop the game as he and Lassie made his way down.

"Way to go little guy."

Shawn winked at the child as they bumped fists.

"Where did you learn a trick like that?"

The little boy blushed and shrugged, embarrassed by Lassiter's question. Lassie smiled at the little boy and stuck his fist out. Gleefully, the child bumped fists with him and smiled. He turned to the other kids an nodded his approval much to the enjoyment of the boys and girls sitting on the sidelines.

"Dog pile on Lassie!"

Carlton turned to Shawn in outrage before the five-year-old took out his legs with a tackle. He was soon swarmed with little children, hugging him and laughing. The parents stood laughing as Shawn winked at them. Slowly the kids removed themselves and Lassie was able to start breathing again. Shawn booted him lightly with a smile.

"Come on Lassie. You can't just lay around. You'd be in the way of the next event."

It seemed they were going to be refereeing a few competitions. Somehow, Lassie didn't mind. He enjoyed being around children. With a small smile he waved by to the first group of children as another entered the arena. He turned back towards the group and once again went to explain the rules. Shawn grinned as the children cowered from the tall detective. It was going to be a long day.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. It will make more sense latter on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry I took so long to finish this chapter and get it up. I was uninspired for a while and kept getting sick. Warning, this chapter has some gruesome details about a murder case of theirs.**

* * *

A weary head detective slumped down on one of the locker room benches, ignoring the smirking brunette that settled down opposite him. The first refereeing had been uneventful but fun. Eight hours, four "Lassie Piles", two "Shawn Climbs", one game of "referee chase", and an extra tackle to the tall police officer by a little blond girl with pigtails, latter, and he was officially worn. He had also missed lunch. Indeed, his watch read three thirty. Carlton hadn't even noticed the time fly by until they were sitting in the locker room ready to change and go home.

"I didn't know you liked paintball. I'll have to remember that."

Lassie looked up in surprise, having momentarily forgotten the green-eyed tyrant sitting across from him. He frowned and retrieved his clothes from his locker. He was now glad he had changed out of his nice suit because, though he had not been shot once, he had been effectively mauled by sticky, paint covered children. Slipping by the young man who was making his way to his own locker, he sealed himself into one of the stalls and proceeded to replaced the uniform with his standard black suit.

"Hey, Lassie"

They voice echoed around him, but it had certainly originated from the stall next to him. As he reached for his holster, he heard Shawn gulp.

"What?"

"I just wanted to say, I'm sorry."

Lassiter sighed as he stepped out of the changing room and shrugged into his jacket. He watched Shawn step out slowly as he retied his tie.

"I was the one who told Chief that you needed a vacation."

Lassie didn't look up from his task, Shawn was sure he already knew what was coming next.

"Lassiter I -"

"Drop it Spencer. I already told you it wasn't your fault that we didn't find him before he got to his third victim. I had stopped you from following your gut, or visions, or whatever you want to call it."

He looked down crossly at his tie, which had managed to become infuriatingly knotted. Swiftly he undid it and started to begin again.

"I should have seen it sooner. If I had paid more attention to what you said about that taunting note, then I wouldn't have had to spend precious time trying to convince you."

Lassie closed his eyes and shook his head as if to say he had been too distracted by the note, which was designed for just that, to have been much help to the case. He quickly snapped them back open when the image of the young red-head woman, hanging upside down from hooks in the ceiling, her blood running seamlessly through her hair and dripping down in a surreal fashion, flashed in the back of his mind. Shawn stared at the paled detective and sighed.

"I'm getting kind of hungry. Want to go out or should I cook something back at your place?"

Snapped out of his horrified stupor, Lassiter glared deftly at the fake psychic. Silently he folded his arms over his chest and raised one eyebrow.

"Just what makes you think I'm letting you anywhere near my new house?"

"Oh come on. That birthday thing wasn't even my fault. Jules was the one who went through your desk and called all of those people."

The head detective snorted, obviously not believing that the young brunette had no hand in his misery. Shrugging, Shawn headed towards the exit.

"Fine. Lets go to that one place, with all the green things on the walls and the blarney stone things."

"Shenanigans?"

* * *

Lassie slumped lower in his seat as another young waitress walked past him grinning. Shawn shamelessly waved to her, ignoring the blue-eyed man across from his kick him under the table. Disregarding all the things he was taught on proper posture, he had been trying to hide since Shawn had drug him into the tacky restaurant, receiving several dubious looks from waitresses that jumped to conclusions to easily. The food was acceptable, but Shawn had been playing it up ever since one of the bolder servers asked them how long they had been together.

The detective had never, ever, been more embarrassed than the moment Shawn placed his hand seductively on his own and said this was their second date. He quickly reprimanded the young man, informing him that he wasn't going to accept that kind of behavior and made for the door. However, with much apologizing, and a hurried explanation to the staff announcing his remark was simply meant to tease the older man, Shawn had coaxed the furious detective back into his seat.

In spite of the outburst, and subsequent explanation, certain members of the staff took it upon themselves to keep the joke running much to the psychic's delight, and Carlton's discontent. The ordeal went on for far too long in his opinion. Having finished his meal, and paid for both Shawn and his food, he stood to leave, the brunette trailing close behind. It was five in the afternoon.

"Where do you live? I'm dropping you off before I go home."

Pouting with his arms crossed in front of his chest, Shawn answered him. Not half an hour latter, he pulled up in front of Shawn's apartment and unlocked the car doors. Said brunette had opened the door when he stopped, unable to resist one last barb.

"What? No kiss? Don't you know the rules of dating?"

He quickly leapt out of the car and raced into the building, grinning as he heard the outraged shout of Santa Barbra's finest. If anyone had bothered to ask, he would have explained their first date was the incident in the bar that lead to him solving the death of a certain astronomer and giving Lassie all the credit. Ruse or not, he enjoyed how much the date comment had flustered and angered the detective. Grinning triumphantly over his new found power of torture, he unlocked his door and decided now would be a good time to call Gus and tell him about his day.

* * *

As soon as Shawn was out of ear shot, Lassiter had begun to laugh so hard tears came to his eyes. While he had been outraged and embarrassed, the initial reaction of the wait staff had been priceless, or rather, just worth the embarrassment that was sure to come in the future. Pulling away, he was slightly glad that he had spent the day the way he had, rather than pumping iron, and hot lead.

When he got home he collapsed sleepily on his tan micro-fiber couch and turned the television on. He decided that was a bad idea when he found it dominated with his and a certain psychic's faces. The last thing he needed at that moment was to be reminded of why he was on that vacation. Standing with a grunt, he decided his time would be better spent with a quick shower and a good book.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed that chapter. It was kind of fun to write. Lassiter, may seem a little out of character, but I think I have managed to maintain some of his personality.**


	5. Chapter 5

-1**I'm so sorry I haven't updated. I tried to write this chapter so many times but I have no creativity when on pain killers.**

**I fell off a roof on broke my leg, again. Then I got swamped with school. My leg still hurts.**

**Anyways, I don't own, and please enjoy this overly belated update.**

-

Sunday morning. Most people were sleeping in or enjoying their morning in church. Sadly the same could not be said for one head detective of the Santa Barbara police. Who wakes someone up at five in the morning just to sleep on your couch for two hours? Shawn, that's who.

"What are you doing here Spencer?"

"Enjoying a smoothie. It has pineapple deliciousness."

To emphasize his point, he swirled the yellow puree in its cup. Lassiter pushed his unwelcome guest's legs off of his couch and flopped down next to him, snatching the television remote at the same time. Flicking it off and placing the remote well out of the pseudo psychic's reach, he turned to the young brunette.

"How did you even find my house?"

"I'm psychic," Shawn mumbled from around the straw he was attempting to chew a hole through.

Lassiter's cobalt eyes narrowed dangerously as he pilfered the annoying smoothie so as the gain the younger man's full attention. Shawn turned to him in surprise that quickly melted into his best attempt at a puppy dog face, complete with pitiful whimpering and crocodile tears. It was quickly replaced with a simpering grin as Lassie returned the drink.

"You are pathetic Spencer. Get out of my house.

"Ok. But you're coming with."

Despite much protest, Shawn had the detective outside and in his car half an hour latter. This time Lassiter was picking the destination, so long as it had nothing to do with work. Shawn was mildly surprised when not an hour latter they arrived at a video arcade. He barely remembered Jules telling him about the games Lassie played with her relatives on Christmas.

"Are you coming or will you stay in the car?"

Shawn sprung out of the car like lightning and dashed to catch up with the tall detective. Silently they walked into the arcade. A collage of strange sounds berated their ears as they stepped in, emanating from the many surrounding machines. Enough lights flashed and danced around the room to make even some of the most hardcore rave-goers have seizures. To Shawn, it was like heaven. Glancing around the room he wondered how he had not found this place before.

A quick survey told the young psychic that Lassie's name was on most of the high score lists for the shooting games. He would just have to keep the detective away from games like that, for now. Said detective started to walk in the direction of one such game, only to find himself being forcefully dragged to a racing contraption.

"What are you doing Spencer?"

"I need someone to race against."

Lassiter realized with some annoyance that, though he was allowed to pick the place, he wasn't going to be picking any of the games today. He glanced at his watch, it read eight AM. He sat down in one of the race seats and shrugged. They had time to kill, though unfortunately no animated zombies or burglars. Shawn fed tokens into the machine and began cycling through the list of cars, trying to pick his weapon on the road. Lassiter did the same, all the while watching the excited man from the corner of his eye. Somehow Shawn always seemed to invade his personal space, even his life, and twist it into something completely strange. Life was almost never dull around him.

A crowd started to gather to watch the animate men racing. Race after race, the tie was only ever broken for a second. Shawn nearly crashed into a wall when he heard Lassie start laughing. His car had managed to burst into flames, he had almost beat Shawn twice in a row. The psychic starts to giggle maniacally, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. People around them start to disperse, disturbed by the uncontrollable laughing. He turned to Shawn with a smile, surprised that he was having so much fun.

"Now what?"

"Pineapple!"

Lassiter struggled to fight down another smile. How could someone live off of pineapple the way Spencer did? Quickly he glanced down at his watch, it wouldn't do for him to be late. With a sigh he stands up and starts towards the door. Shawn darts after him, slightly confused.

"Wait, am I getting pineapple?"

"Latter, we have to meet O'Hara for lunch."

Eyes wide Shawn slides into the passenger seat and bounces in place. Lassiter's sharp look makes him stop, for a second. Soon the bouncing is accompanied with mumbled words about the wonders of pineapple. Lassiter knew he'd have a migraine before the day is over, let alone the week, but he certainly wasn't going to anger the chief and make it even longer.

In ten minutes they were across town at a little dinner with pictures of retired cops on the walls. With a shudder Spencer walked past the picture of his father. Lassie directed them to an empty booth and refused menus until their guest arrived. Shortly after Juliet walked in and slid into the seat across from them. They accepted menus this time. Shawn noticed with some glee they had pineapple smoothies. The waitress simply smiled as she took his order, slightly amused by the young man shamelessly flirting with her. Juliet gave him a disgusted look after she left.

"Nice Shawn."

"Don't worry. I still think you are the foxiest girl with a gun."

"I have a boy friend. I like that disclaimer though, the foxiest GIRL."

Lassiter chokes on his coffee, the searing hot liquid burning his throat and bringing water to his eyes. They both stare at him, concerned and amused.

"Are you alright Lassie?"

He nods, whispering something about the liquid being extremely hot. Genuinely anxious, and slightly mischievous, Shawn offers some of his smoothie, mentioning how it would cool his throat. Juliet is trying hard not to laugh as Carlton pushed the brown haired psychic away with a glare. For a second the detectives' eyes meet across the table and she knows he blames her. He coughs, attempting to regain his composure.

"Tell me you are not still dating Luntz."

"I am."

She crosses her arms defensively. She was used to Shawn disliking him because he though she was cute. She also knew that Lassiter had his own personal reasons for disliking him. Still, it wasn't fair for them to gang up on her for her personal preferences. The rest of lunch was spent in awkward silence. She stood to go, but stopped at the smirk on Shawn's face.

"What?"

"Don't wear the red skirt Wednesday."

"What? Why?"

"I don't want you looking like a tomato when we all go out."

She opened her mouth to ask how he knew Wednesday was her next day off, or how he knew about her new red skirt, but she quickly decided against it. Everyone in the Santa Barbra police had received his 'I'm a Psychic' response enough times to know he wouldn't really answer any questions. With a promise that she would remember and see them Wednesday night, she left. Lassie rolled his eyes as he pushed Shawn out of the booth.

"You're in my way. Why did you tell her we were all going out?"

"We will be."

With a growl he stalked off. It wasn't that he had a problem with spending social time with his partner, though the psychic did disturb him a little. He simply didn't like being volunteered to spend time with people, he still hoped he could sneak off latter to get some target practice in. With a sigh he settled into the drivers seat of his car, he never had this much time to waste, and it was only Sunday. He turned to Shawn as he listened to his car door slam. The younger man opened his mouth to say something, but he raised his hand to stop him.

"I know. Smoothies."

"Pineapple smoothies."

-

**Sorry is was short, and boring. There were a few things I needed in the story, the rest was mostly pain blocked filler. Next chapter should have more plot and shameless fluff disguised as insulation.**

**I am also very sorry for the extensively belated update. Please forgive me. I really hope it won't happen again.**

**On another note….Luntz….I still don't like him. He bores me, but I see him as an interesting plot device. Sorry to anyone who happens to like him.**

**Hope you enjoyed and with any luck of the good kind I should update again in a timely manner.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Still not owning. Enjoy the randomness.**

**-**

The rest of the day had been uneventful for Carlton. Shawn had kept him busy for the entire day and before he knew it, it was late and the ranges were all closed. They had gone to dinner at what Shawn had dubbed _their_ restaurant, the Shenanigans they had been at previously. This time the waitresses took in stride the odd pair walking in. The entire night was filled with subtle teasing and not so subtle winks. He was surprised when Shawn paid the bill and stood to go.

"I thought I was buying."

"You always buy. I can handle it this time."

Slightly fazed, Lassiter followed the fake psychic out to his car. They sat in a comfortable silence during the ride to Shawn's apartment. The brunette grinned at him as he got out of the car, pulling his keys from his pocket in the same swift motion. He leaned back down, one arm on the roof of the red sedan.

"I had fun today."

Lassie shifted in his seat. When had it turned from a forced day out with the annoying psychic? He wasn't sure how he started to enjoy himself.

"Um…I did too."

Lassiter sat silent in the car for several minutes after Shawn left before driving off. He wasn't sure why he was even contemplating what had just happened.

-

Sleep was one of those things Lassiter did with a high sense of awareness. Sounds, scents, the slightest pressure, it all woke him up. He had learned to always be alert. That is why, Monday morning, he woke with a start to a sound from his kitchen. Sliding his hand under his pillow, he eased his gun to the ready and stalked out of his room, ready to shoot the intruder.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see Shawn sitting on his counter, a bowl of cereal in hand. What did surprise him was the pile of guns stacked next to him.

"Jesus, Spencer, I almost shot you. What are you doing with my guns?"

"Tsk, Tsk Lassie-face. I'm not Jesus, though I can understand the mistake. Do you know how hard it was to reach some of these? I had to remove the grate for one of the air ducts to get one of them!"

He growled, setting the gun in his hand down, well away from Shawn's treasure pile. With some annoyance he noticed certain ones no one knew about also in the pile.

"Good for you, you managed to sniff out my firearms. Care to tell me why," he growled as he snatched the bowl from his hands.

"Can't have you getting in trouble while I'm gone today."

Lassiter looked up, a small hint of surprise and suspicion on his face. Shawn jumped off his counter, snagging his bowl. Some of the contents splashed across the detectives t-shirted chest, but neither took to much notice of it. Shawn continued his happy munching of the detectives food, and Lassiter continued to look at him suspiciously.

"What do you mean while you're gone?"

"I have a previous engagement with work, otherwise I would stay, I assure you."

He couldn't believe his luck. Spencer was actually be out of his hair for the day and bugging someone else. He couldn't make himself feel sorry for the poor sap who hired him without a clue.

"Help me put these back, and I promise not to use them."

"Really? You don't mind me knowing where they all are?"

Lassie froze, his back to the fake psychic.

"Spencer," his tone was flat, "You found my house when I moved without your knowledge. You found everyone of my guns, including one I hadn't touched since I moved here. I don't know how you did it, but I don't think it'll make a difference."

Shawn grinned triumphantly and assisted in putting them all back in their place. When it was close to nine forty, he left, promising to se him later. Close to thirty minutes latter, Lassie left cautiously. He drove around a bit to make sure he wasn't followed, and stopped for coffee just incase. When he was positive Shawn wasn't trailing him, two hours latter, he drove straight to the range.

After taking the gun from his glove box, he went in the main part of the range, still looking around. Several clerks that had come to recognized him waved and asked what he was doing there on a Monday. He simply asked for some targets and a case of bullets.

On the range he could smell the gunpowder and immediately relaxed. Another person stood at the far end, firing prompt rounds into a target of his own, but it didn't bother Carlton; he didn't mind as long as he stayed well away from him.

The cool gun was like heaven in his hands, easing his nervousness and quelling his fears. He fired off a succession into the target and stopped a moment to breath in the harsh smell. He didn't even notice as the other person stopped and pulled his target in. Another clip into the target, and Lassie paused again.

It was then he noticed that the other person had stopped firing and was now standing behind him, watching him intently. Cautiously, as he put down his weapon, he turned to face Shawn, who wasn't smiling. He'd never seen the flat look Shawn now wore. Not even when his mother was taken. At least then, he had been showing another unusual emotion: fear. Now there was nothing, except maybe a hint of disappointment that did more to tell how alike he and his father really were than anything else he had ever seen.

"You knew I'd come here."

"Yes."

"Did you even have work to day?"

"Yes, but I came here right after."

Clipped answers. It wasn't disappointment or anger he was hiding, it was concern. Shawn sighed and tossed his target in the trash walking to the exit ahead of the now silent detective. Lassie quickly packed up, heading to follow. Only as and afterthought, he unfolded Shawn's target and stared at the perfect ring, cut along the ten line, and the hole through the center of the X. With only a slight hint of annoyance and awe, he quickly followed after the brunette to speak with him.

-

**Sorry it took so long to update. Hope you liked it.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm so sorry I haven't updated. Life invades my time and I've been unable to get to a computer lately…Still don't own Psych.**

…

Lassiter followed the fuming psychic out of the gun shop, waving off the concerned employees who made to approach them. Shawn tugged at the door to the head detective's car.

"Didn't you come here on your own?" Lassiter asked dryly.

"I walked a bit so you wouldn't see my bike." Flat. No usual tone changes to his voice at all.

Lassiter unlocked the driver's side with an annoyed huff, climbing in. Reaching across, he undid the other door by hand. Shawn recognized the gesture as something Lassie did when he wanted close to someone. The act showed he was welcoming him, even if he didn't realize it.

"Where is your bike?"

"Back at Psych."

Lassie sputtered with surprise, turning to him incredulously. It was at least a half hour walk from the fake psychic's business to his favored gun range. Still looking at him in the corner of his eye, the detective turned the engine over and peeled out of the parking lot.

He reached across Shawn as soon as they came to a red light, opening the glove box to tuck his gun in. Without moving his eyes from the road in front of him, he tugged Shawn's shirt up and removed the gun from his waistband to join his own firearm in the glove box.

"Why Lassie! I didn't know you were so versed in the way's of car romance."

"Are you going to tell the chief?" He tilted his head a bit to get a better look and still keep his eyes on the road.

"Tell her what? That you're molesting me in your car? We can keep it secret if you like, but I'll have to let Gus know. It's a psychic thing."

Lassie turned his head fully at that, glaring potently at him. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Oh Yes! Talk dirty to me like that." Shawn was cut off from further statements by a hand connecting with the back of his head.

"Spencer…" He turned away with a deep growl. Time to stop playing.

"The way I see it, Karen told me not to let you near police things. That means no helping me with my cases and swiping your police scanner for a week." Shawn folded his arms in defeat, looking out the side window.

"That's called theft you know." Lassiter shrugged, tension leaving his shoulders ever so slightly.

"O-M-Geesies! Was that a joke?" Shawn turned to him with a grin, not noticing as the car came to a stop.

"It's a fact Spencer. Even a fraud like you knows that." Lassiter had turned in his seat, an exasperated look on his face.

"What's a worse crime," Shawn looked away from him, oddly hurt. "murder or fraud?"

"Murder, obviously. But fraud is still a crime." Lassiter eyed him suspiciously. He hadn't immediately denied his comment.

"Would you rather catch murderers, or one man committing fraud?" He looked back up, fixing those green eyes directly on his temporary companion.

Lassiter inhaled sharply. He wasn't ready for the other man to confess. "I…I suppose I could cut a deal with one criminal who committed a lesser crime if it meant catching worse people." That was a good answer. An honest answer.

"See Lassie-McSassy?" Shawn brightened up, reaching across to roughly pat Lassie's cheek. "You'd never actually arrest me."

"Are you confessing to something here?"

"Oh Lassie. I could never keep secrets from you. I do have a confession." Shawn drew his hand back to his chest. "The spirits tell me to do nasty things to you in your sleep."

"Get out of my car." Lassiter growled.

For the first time Shawn looked around at where they had stopped, a slow grin forming on his face. "This isn't Psych."

"Wonderful observation skills Spencer. You'll make head detective in no time." Lassiter climbed out of the car, looking up at the sign with an exhausted sign.

"That wouldn't do Lassie-face. I like working under you." Shawn waggled his eyebrows as he joined the older man in the parking lot. "You know. As much as I like blarney stone burritos, we really need a few more restaurants to frequent."

"With any luck we won't be dinning out together anymore in a week."

"If we start dinning in I want a romantic candle lit dinner."

"I'll be sure to tell Guster." Lassiter held the door open for him.

"Two jokes in one day! I'm so proud of you." Shawn wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

….

"Don't you have somewhere you live?" Lassiter asked with annoyance at the brunette slowly waking up on his couch. He had been certain Shawn left the night before.

"Yesh." Shawn slurred, stretching, "But your coush is sho comfy."

"Up." Lassie growled, yanking the pineapple themed blanket from the reluctant psychic.

His eye twitched at the bright yellow pajamas. Strange looking pineapples were on the pants and button down shirt. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Dude. These are like vintage Sponge Bob Squarepants nightwear. Do you know how hard it was to find these in my size?" Shawn was up, already making his way to Lassiter's bathroom, on overnight bag in his hand.

"That's because they're for children Spencer." He followed him to the bathroom, watching him fix his hair in the mirror.

"Nu un. Pineapplely goodness is for everyone Lassie-molassy. Moleassesy… That one didn't work very well." Shawn paused for a moment as he squeezed pineapple flavored toothpaste on his toothbrush.

"It's a wonder you can taste anything other than pineapples."

"Why would I want to?" Shawn spoke around the brush, spraying the mirror with foam.

"There are better things to taste than pineapple," The head detective wrinkled his nose in disgust, eyeing his mussed mirror.

"Like?" Shawn prompted.

"Scotch." Lassie offered, wincing as the toothpaste slid down the mirror, making a mess on the counter.

"Hm. I prefer a good Irish myself." Shawn grinned, rinsing his mouth out with full pomp and circumstance.

"Out." Lassiter growled, yanking on the smaller man's arm as he dragged him out of the bathroom.

"Noooooo!" Shawn struggled spastically.

"You are leaving now." Lassiter manhandled him into the front room.

"No." Shawn collapsed dramatically, sudden dead weight in the detective's arms.

Lassie stumbled at the sudden weight. It seemed trying to climb up the walls out of his arms made Shawn a bit lighter. He wasn't so heavy he couldn't lift him though. As he knelt to brace him self to stand however, Shawn began his spastic motions again. The brunette struck Lassie in the face with one of his flailing arms, annoying the detective severely.

With some effort, the detective soon had the smaller man pinned awkwardly to the ground, his knee placed against the side of his face. Shawn was laughing hysterically, a more tussled mess than he had been when he first woke. A loud banging sound emanated from Lassiter's front door, the frantic knock of someone in panic.

"Lassiter? Lassiter! Carlton open up!" Both men jumped at the sound of Gus' voice.

Lassie was across the room in seconds, chasing the somehow freed psychic. Shawn ripped the door open, staring at his friend in shock. A very flustered Gus froze at the sight of his friend before practically tackling him.

"I was so worried Shawn. You weren't at your place and I thought maybe angry evil guys trying to steal your fortune had broken into your house and killed you and you were a spirit trying to get in contact with Jules."

"Dude. That would make you Whoopi Goldburg." Shawn laughed. "Hey wait. How do you know where Lassie lives?"

"I told him in case of another Spencer related emergency. You got shot last time." Lassiter leaned on the door frame, nodding to the new arrival in his house.

"Um." Gus paused, looking at the disheveled man in his arms and then at the rumpled man standing in the door frame. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Only the best tickle fight ever!" Shaw waved his arms dramatically. "But that's okay we're almost to the part where we braid each other's hair and talk about boys."

"You had a tickle fight?" Gus looked at Lassie in shock.

"No. We didn't."

"Oh." Gus looked between the again. "Shawn what have we said about euphemisms?"

"Gussy, Gussy, Gussy. Where would we be without our youth?"

"It wasn't a euphemism either Guster. He's being a pest."

Shawn pouted, waving his arms in annoyance. Gus laughed uneasily, scooting out the front door very slowly. Lassiter frowned at the action, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He didn't like the look on the man's face.

"I…"Gus paused, taking another extended look between the two. "I just wanted to know where Shawn was. Call me next time you're spending the night…or just text me. I don't need you to call. I wouldn't want to interrupt."

"He didn't spend the night." Lassiter growled, exasperated.

"So he just showed up this morning in his pajamas?" Gus asked incredulously.

"Is that so hard to believe?" Lassie snorted, kicking the back of Shawn's leg.

"But I did spend the night." Shawn corrected.

"Like that time you spent the night under my bed making creepy monster noises? You know how much that bothered me and your dad said you couldn't stay over."

"I didn't ask Henry if I could stay with Lassie. I don't need his approval."

"Maybe you should need it." Lassiter glowered.

"That wasn't my point Shawn. I was framing your habit for breaking into friends houses."

"Quite ganging up on me. It's like Revenge of the Nerds and I'm the only jock here. And there's no pie. Lassie should be the jock. He's got that 80's jock jaw." Shawn huffed, sitting on the floor in a mature display of annoyance.

"80's Jock jaw?"

"Oh hell no Shawn. I'm not involved with this. You can be Rodger Rabbit and Lassie can be Eddie Valiant." Gus ignored Lassiter's confused question.

"Dude. I have that Koosh ball. But you make a bad Taxi."

"I drive you around all the time. Don't I?"

"If I say yes to that does that mean I get Jessica?"

"Yes."

"Sweet."

"Would you take him now?" Lassiter sighed, shaking his head at the two men.

"Sorry. Can't do that. You're his job right now and it's nice to see him actually doing it." Gus stood straight, fixing his distraught shirt.

"Look Guster. You of all people should know how trying it is to spend an entire day with him. Let alone three. Don't make me spend four with him. I will shoot someone."

"Now Lassie. We're bonding here. It's my job to amuse you and help you relax. Just tell me what you need."

"For you to leave."

"Lassie you're being a rotten rutabaga. No one likes rutabaga. Bye Gus." Shawn waved as his friend made a hasty escape.

Lassiter went back into his living room, looking in horror at the blanket still invading his couch. Shawn ran through his house, disturbingly fast, to lock himself in the bathroom. Disgruntled, Lassiter followed, knocking roughly on the door.

"What are you doing Spencer?"

"Changing. And trying not to get thrown out."

"That's not how to do it." Carlton reminded, leaning against the wall opposite the door.

"Do you remember the talk we had last night?"

"We didn't talk last night. After we ate you sat on my sofa all night watching cheesy 80's movies and old cartoons until I threw you out. How you got back in I don't know."

"We totally had a conversation. It was on a higher level."

"Conversations have words Spencer."

Shawn stepped out still tugging at his Applejacks shirt. "You're thinking too hard on this Lassie. Go with the flow."

"Listen here Spencer. If you don't stop pestering me I will handcuff you to the back of my car and drive around town with the sirens on at top speed."

"You're making your grouchy face again. See?" Shawn reached up to play with Lassiter's expression. "You're getting wrinkles Lassie-boy."

Lassiter slapped his hands away, his eye twitching involuntarily. Giggling happily to himself, Shawn bypassed the detective and made his way to the kitchen. He watched as the psychic set about making coffee and digging through his fridge. He produced a pineapple Lassiter was sure had not been there the night before and set about doing something with pans and fire.

"Just what are you doing with that pineapple?"

"A delicious secret known as breakfast."

Lassie shrugged. "As long as there's nothing pineapple related in the coffee."

….

**With luck I'll have another chapter up soon. Assuming life doesn't interrupt. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. The story will start picking up in the next chapter and hopefully be more interesting.**


	8. Chapter 8

…**Still don't own Psych. This chapter is a bit gruesome in parts.**

… ... .. .

He was sick of pineapple, honestly. Carlton was tired of the smell, the feel, and definitely the taste. He hadn't even been eating it and he was tired of the taste. So instead of eating the pineapple pancakes, he drank his coffee, watching Spencer eat them. When the fake's phone started ringing, he hoped it was a call that would get him to leave.

"Oh. Hi Chief. No. He's with me."

Lassie's head shot up from the paper he had spent half of the morning flipping idly through. "Chief?"

Shawn grinned at him, a toothy smile as he nodded to his phone. "A little tense still, but good. He got a full night's sleep for the first time since the case."

Their eyes locked together as Lassiter let his words sink in. Shawn spent the night knowing he had been having problems sleeping. Shawn had been worried about his sleep. Spencer had spent the night watching him sleep. He turned up the glare as that last point hit home. Spencer had been sitting in his room watching him and he hadn't even woken up.

"Alright Chief. Yes. I'll let you know. Just one thing: Can we get a trampoline in the bullpen?" Shawn blinked down at his phone in surprise. "She hung up."

Lassiter opened his mouth to scold the psychic, but what came out surprised him. "You didn't sleep last night."

"Is that concern I detect Lassie?" Shawn leaned on his elbows on the table, "Who says I didn't just know it psychically?"

"Doesn't take a psychic." Lassiter countered, reaching across the table to trace the dark circles under the brunette's eyes.

Shawn stiffened, his eyes widening with surprise. Lassiter quickly drew his hand back, like a shot, busying it with his coffee cup. They both sat tense a moment, all traces of the former, comfortable air brutalized and left gasping for it's last seconds of air under six feet of dirt. Shawn eyed Lassie uncomfortably for a moment, shifting in his seat, pancakes forgotten.

"It is a bit hard to sleep when you snore like a log trough the night." He decided to laugh it off, sending the room back into their usual tension.

"Go get some rest." Lassiter growled, turning back to the paper that he still hadn't read any actual news from.

Shawn grinned, sliding out into the living room and plopping down noisily on the couch. He heard a growl from the other room, soon followed by an annoyed head detective. Lassiter leaned against the wall, a flat look on his face as he watched the younger man snuggle into his couch.

"No."

"What?" Shawn pouted, "You told me to rest."

"Not there." He growled again.

Spencer sighed, dragging himself up into a sitting positing, his eyes drooped dramatically to emphasize his tired state. Carlton never budged, his eyes fixed on him in a determined, steady glare. Shawn would have admitted it was an impressive, commanding look, but he had seen enough of Lassie that it was simply endearing.

He pulled himself lazily off the couch, barely standing strait, playing up his exhaustion for all it was worth. With a soft glare, he headed for the door, honestly too tired to argue. He would be lying if he said he got much sleep.

"Where do you think you're going now?" Lassie sounded…amused?

"I'm not leaving?" Spencer didn't fight the yawn that time.

"And do what? You'd crash your bike before you got ten feet, I'm not driving you, and you're not walking." The detective moved forward, scooping up Shawn's blanket with only a moment's hesitation.

A grin broke across the psychic's face as the other man's motives sank in. He followed Lassie to his room, plopping down on the bed with a satisfied smirk. With a glare, Carlton threw the blanket at him.

Gruffly, "Don't touch anything."

"Night night Lassie." Shawn snuggled into the pillow, instantly grateful for the softer sleeping surface, even if it did smell like gun powder and strange aftershave.

… ..

"Oh my God." Juliet squeaked, staring wide-eyed at the chief.

"Don't go jumping to conclusions detective O'Hara. All we know is Shawn was there this morning." Karen smiled.

The door to her office burst open, Gus sliding easily in and shutting the door quickly. He glanced back out, eyeing the people warily before turning an exhausted look towards the two girls. Both stood patiently, curious about Gus coming in without his partner.

"You need to stop this. Now."

"Stop what?" Vick asked curiously.

"Shawn didn't answer his phone last night and this morning I found out he broke into Lassie's house to keep an eye on him. He's taking this too seriously." Gus frowned, hoping they would realize this wasn't good for either man.

"So he did spend the night at Carlton's?" Jules sounded ecstatic.

"Lassiter didn't know about it until this morning." He knew Shawn: He snuck in and there was no way he would have been allowed to stay if he had been caught.

"Really, Mr. Guster. How does this surprise you? Mr. Spencer always has done things unusually." The chief busied herself with some papers on her desk.

Gus snapped, annoyed that she disregarded his concern. "You don't know what Shawn gets like. This may seem fun right now, but this obsession isn't helping to distract him."

He stormed out, leaving the two mildly concerned. What did Shawn need distracted from?

… ..

Lassiter sighed in content, looking over his clean kitchen. Shawn was never cooking in there again. Speaking of the psychic detective, Lassie started into his room to see if the younger man was still sleeping. It had taken about an hour for him to quite down and sleep. Three hours later, when Lassie last checked on him, he was sleeping softly. It was nearly noon when he slipped in again.

Shawn was snoring lightly, twitching in his sleep.

"_Spencer. Get out of here. You are not helping on this case." Lassiter growled, pushing Shawn from where he sat perched on the latest victims couch._

"_I was drawn here by the spirits Lassie." Shawn placed his hand to his head. "I'm sensing the victims both liked verbally abusing people."_

"_They both frequented a slam poetry club. Why?" Juliet frowned, watching as the police rifled through the house for evidence._

"_Jules, please. That wasn't their only connection. I'm sensing that both women were disgruntled. Stuck in between their oppressing bosses and their useless employees, like a sad Oreo with a soggy bottom cookie."_

"_Yeah. And the top cookie is broken and crumbled." Gus piped in._

_The two bumped fists, earning an eye roll from Lassiter. "So they worked in middle management. We already know all this Spencer. We don't need you."_

_Shawn rolled his eyes, leaving with Gus out the front. As soon as they were out of ear shot, Shawn frowned, grabbing Gus by the arm._

"_We're missing something. The second murder seemed a lot more thought out."_

"_It was like the killer was adding on to the first one." Gus slid into the driver's seat._

"_The two bodies were found in warehouses related to their work, right?" Shawn slid down in his seat, thinking it over. "So out of the other three middle management girls that visit that club, which have warehouses in the immediate area they're connected with?"_

"_I get the hint Shawn, but we're being careful this time."_

Lassiter frowned looking down at the young man. It wasn't fair that he was so good. He could always waltz right in and make leaps of logic that would make a real psychic jealous. Fraud. Lassie wasn't so sure anymore. Maybe he didn't realize it, but Shawn saw things other people couldn't see.

_Shawn froze in place, staring down at the copy of the note in his hand._

"_Useless force. Detectives in a row. A seamless tear in the sky. Her perfect death. Can the officers even help find the perfect way to die?"_

_It was a poorly written slam poem, but considering what he'd heard, and done himself, he wasn't judging that. He remembered what Lassie said about it though. He had called it an invitation. Why hadn't he listened when Lassie said that? He was running to the car in seconds, Gus hot on his heels._

"_I know who the killer is!"_

Shawn stirred slightly, earning a sharp glance from Carlton. A pained whimper escaped his lips, alarming the older man. His face was scrunched tight, knit brows contorting with something. Lassiter lowered himself towards the bed, noting the slight sheen on Shawn's brow. Was he having a bad dream?

_It was eerily beautiful, as far as murders went. She was strung up, hooks sinking into her flesh, suspending her upside down. They were tangle up, looking almost like wings. Her white dress was woven through it, making a stained glass effect. Stained red. The blood slipped down her painted face, tenderly applied shades of blue. The red of her blood blended perfectly with her hair, the same shade he had thought was lovely when they flirted not that long ago._

_It was good, from an artistic stand point, that they found her so soon. It really wouldn't do for the blood to have started drying before the crime scene pictures were taken. It would have browned and wouldn't match her hair. Shawn felt sick seeing her, but the looks on everyone else's faces told him not to say it. He'd seen some bad one's but this really had been perfect. _

_It was obvious, from the start, that the owner of the club was skuzzy. He should have known that he was the killer. That he had been practicing on those other two women for her. That he would have killed the other three to keep up charades._

_He should have known just looking into those eyes._

Shawn shot up, the memories flashing through his mind over and over in gruesome detail. Sweat dripped down him as a shout pierced his throat. It burned, like he were out of breath, searing the back of his tongue, his throat, all the way down into his chest. Lassiter sprang back, shocked by the sudden awakening.

"Jesus Christ Spencer. What the hell was that?" Lassie eyed the still panting psychic.

"Ah. Sorry." Shawn tried to laugh, hoping it would bring the color back. "The pineapples didn't agree with me."

"Spencer." Lassiter frowned, but stopped.

"Hey, is it lunch time?" Shawn straightened his shirt, trying to smooth the rumples at least a little.

"Yes." Lassiter headed to the door.

… ..

"Gussy!" Shawn nearly jumped his friend, but restrained since they were on opposite sides of the table.

"Seriously, how are you?" Gus sipped at his soda, watching Lassiter argue with the burger boy.

"I'm fine, really." Shawn grinned, "Lassie's being cool about this assignment, like Cool Hand Luke cool."

"Um…Shawn? Did we watch the same movie?"

"He was still cool Gus. Don't be a stale starburst."

"You know what I'm worried about anyway."

"The visions aren't that bad." Shawn murmured, well aware that Lassie was right behind him.

"What visions?" Lassiter sat down next to him, placing their burgers down between them. "And why am I feeding you again?"

"Because you love me?" Shawn snatched the burger, dodging the previous comment.

"Shawn's visions don't always stop when he solves a case." Gus offered quickly, his eyes never leaving his best friend's.

"What kind of visions?" Lassiter frowned, hoping this would cast light on the incident earlier.

"Gus." Shawn warned, "Psych stuff is privileged, remember?"

"He sees the murders, over and over. Keeps replaying them in his head." Gus continued, watching from the corner of his eye as Lassiter's face scrunched.

"Liar!" Shawn sprang up, subsequently falling as he collided with the table.

Lassiter pushed Spencer out of his lap, growling. "I will shoot you." He paused for a moment, focusing on his soda, "And that happens to every good cop Guster. It's a bad sign when it stops happening."

"Even you?" Shawn asked shyly from around his straw.

"You already know the answer to that."

Gus sighed, uncomfortable with the tense feelings between those two. Something had obviously happened after he left. He just hoped it wasn't a breakdown. He knew Shawn saw more than just the crime scenes. He could visualize, see the crime as it was happening. That helped make him so good, and twice as likely to keep revisiting it. And occasionally he would lie on the couch in Psych, eyes wide, almost in a panic attack as he relived the murders they'd solved.

"So you're coming out with all of us tomorrow?"

"Shawn. My boss is astounded that today is the first time this week I've asked for extended time away from work. I can do the partying Wednesday."

"Sweet."

… ... .. .

**Not the longest chapter, but it's starting to move now. Hope you enjoyed it.**


	9. Chapter 9

…**Still don't own Psych. This chapter is a bit fluffy, but it's productive fluff.**

… … .. .

"So what ever happened to her fling with Declan?"

"God Gus…" Shaw groaned. "Did you really have to bring him up?"

"He wasn't that bad." Lassiter snorted, laying down a tip for the busboy.

"Lassie. You're supposed to be on my side. That guy was a looser. A rich, charming, talented looser, but that's not the point."

"Better than Luntz."

"Yes. Okay I agree with that. At least Declan was closer to her age." Shawn threw his hands up in defeat.

"You're just jealous because you lost out to an old man Shawn. Admit it. At least Declan was fair competition." Gus shimmied out of his seat, stretching.

"Hm. Not very good competition." Lassiter yawned, standing as he tucked his wallet into his pocket.

Spencer and Gus froze, exchanging a glance. They both turned to Lassie to grin, surprised and mildly pleased. He caught their grins and frowned, thinking over what he said to see why they were grinning manically at them. His eyes widened as it sank in and he immediately started for the door.

"You can't run away from it Lassie." Shawn called after him, racing to catch up.

Gus shook his head as he followed slowly.

"What ever happened between you two anyway?" Lassiter asked with a smirk. "You kept dancing around a relationship and then it just dropped off."

"Ouch. He's got you pegged Shawn."

"Well…" Shawn trailed off, not really comfortable with the line of questioning, "She's probably still mad after I broke her and Declan's relationship."

"Face it. You two will never have a serious relationship because you both try to immediately back pedal on any progress you make."

"Can Spencer be serious with anything?" Lassiter interjected, leaning on his car as he waited for the conversation to end.

"Wow. See? What did I tell you Gus? He's been joking and everything. By the end of the week he may be a fully functioning person." Shawn grinned, opening the door to Carlton's car and sitting down.

"Bye Shawn. I'll see you later." Gus shook his head.

Gus peeled out of the parking lot, surprised at the growth from both of them. Shawn didn't face things, especially not relationships. And Lassiter, well, he was a hard ass and couldn't crack a smile without a gun in his hand. He was proud of them both. Gus nearly missed the red light as shock settled in. Shawn and Lassie being friends was a good thing. They were good for each other.

"No. No. NO. I am not encouraging this." He told himself firmly. "I'm not encouraging anything."

… ..

"You're quiet." Lassiter sighed as he pressed a cold beer against Shawn's neck.

Shawn glanced up in surprise, peeling his eyes away from Lassiter's TV just long enough to see what was pressed to his neck. "I thought you liked the quiet."

"You're never quiet."

The fake psychic reached up to take the beer, jumping slightly when he reached too high and caught Lassie's hand. Lassiter jumped as well, nearly dumping the beer on Shawn as he let go of it. With a sigh he plopped down next to him, glancing at the soap opera that was currently playing before he turned to Shawn.

"What's wrong with you Spencer?"

"Wrong?" Shawn feigned innocence. "Why would something be wrong?"

"Is this about my partner?"

Shawn momentarily cursed the man's incite, but didn't let his look falter. "What? No. I'm engrossed with my Soaps. Enrique is madly in love with Julio's sister, but she thinks he loves her mother, who thinks her husband Padre is in love with Enrique when really he's cheating on her with Filipe's evil twin sister."

"What? No. Never mind. You're diverting. Spencer, if it bothers you that much talk to her."

"Don't need another therapist in my life dude." Shawn said bitterly, casting a darkening look his way.

"Don't equate me to your mother." Lassiter growled. "And for a bit of useful information, be it now or later, not all relationships work. It doesn't matter how much you love someone."

Shawn stared at him in surprise, "That's...really depressing. Thanks though."

"Don't mention it. Really. Or I'll have to shoot you."

"Good old Lassie." Shawn grinned, patting his arm.

After a couple beers and a night of soaps, Shawn found himself listing. He finally slumped over, leaning heavily on the arm of the couch. Lassiter turned the TV off, eyeing him with a sigh.

"Up Spencer. You're not sleeping on my couch."

"Because I'm not welcome?" He yawned, curling up tighter on himself.

"No. Because you won't get sleep on my couch. I have a guest room you know."

"That's for guests. Technically I'm not allowed in your house."

"I invited you in, didn't I?" Lassiter sighed. "Look. I know you're spending the night whether I like it or not, the least I can do is have you actually get some sleep. Than I don't have to worry about you crashing tomorrow or staying up all night nailing my door shut or something."

"Why would I nail your door shut?" Shawn grinned, sitting up.

"You nailed Guster's door shut."

"You're not Gus." He stood anyway, heading back toward the spare room. "And he's a tattletale."

"Hm." Lassiter nodded, closing the door behind Shawn and heading off to his own room.

… ..

As Detective Lassiter stared up at the younger man currently straddling him, two thoughts immediately came to mind. One, it was a good thing his hands were pinned above his head right now or he would have shot Spencer on impulse. Two, it was a good thing his hands were pinned above his head or he would have shot Spencer on principal.

"Get off me." He growled.

"Morning Lassie-face." Shawn grinned, not yet moving from where he had catapulted himself. "It's Wednesday."

Lassiter wrenched his hands free, pushing Shawn off in the same movement. "I know that. That's no excuse to jump on me."

Shawn grinned up at him from his new seat on the floor. "Get dressed. We're going out."

"Excuse me?" Lassie froze in the middle of his morning routine.

"Well, breakfast first, and then we're going out." Shawn started for the bedroom door, waving his arms dramatically as he went.

"I'll be out in twenty." Lassiter informed him, shaking his head in defeat.

Shawn fled quickly back to the kitchen where he was once again decimating the head detective's counters and range. Bacon was sizzling somewhat evenly in a pan as French toast burnt itself in another. He cursed momentarily, flipping the toast as he heard the shower start. Hot coffee was brewing in the pot and broken egg shells littered the sink, where Shawn had pushed them when he found they were in his way. In a couple minutes he had his messy breakfast plated and sitting on the table.

He turned to the messy kitchen as sighed. As much as he hated cleaning, he wanted Lassiter to be in a good enough mood not to shoot him, so he got started on wiping down the egg coated surfaces.

Lassie noticed immediately that something was wrong when he stepped out of his bathroom. Shawn wasn't waiting there, which meant he was somewhere else in the house unsupervised. He could smell bacon and coffee, which meant he was in the kitchen.

"Damn it Spencer!" Lassie's chastising remark came to a full halt when he saw his kitchen, clean.

"Breakfast?" Shawn smirked, already seated at the table.

Lassiter sat down slowly, looking around the kitchen for hidden disasters. He then took a moment to glance down at his plate, checking for pineapple in any of the food. Satisfied that it was free of said 'king of fruits', he slowly took a bite.

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Shawn started to eat. "You could have asked if it had pineapple."

Lassiter glanced up, "Where the hell are you keeping your clothes in my house?"

Shawn looked down at himself, noting the red and black striped collared shirt he had changed into with a grin. He then glanced up at the head detective and frowned to see he was once again in slacks and a polo shirt.

"Would it kill you to wear jeans Lassie?"

"So where are we going today?" Lassiter growled around a full mouth, not in the mood for Shawn's antics, since he had gotten to see his alarm clock.

"Somewhere." Shawn glanced at his phone, five ten, good.

… ..

"Really Spencer? As much as I like kids…" Lassiter trailed off, eyeing the paintball arena with mild annoyance.

"No kids this time Detective. I promise." Shawn grinned, dragging him into the shop.

The creepy man at the counter glared at them, reaching behind the counter for something as they approached. "Gut yur order. Don' know why ya had ta change partnr's."

Shawn accepted a box from him and quickly started dragging Lassiter to the lockers. As he disappeared behind the door, Carlton watched the man's sneer twist into a demonic snarl. He shook his head, deciding he didn't want to bother.

"Change partners for what? What are we doing Spencer?"

"Only the best thing ever." Shawn pulled the box open and began passing what appeared to be clothing to the Head Detective.

Lassie looked the paintball gear over with a horrified look. It was slim black material with neon green highlights. Shawn hadn't even bothered to step into a changing room as he started to strip down and pull his matching gear on.

"I am not wearing this." He protested quickly, turning to give Spencer privacy.

"Got to Lassie. We're Thelma and Louise, Bonnie and Clyde, a team. Besides, you have to wear it if you want to shoot people with paintballs." Shawn grinned as he noticed Lassiter's shoulder's fall.

"Fine." He gave in and stepped into a stall to quickly change.

Shawn loaded their weapons, grinning at the neon green paintballs he selected himself. Lassiter growled from the stall he was in, surprising the psychic. He sounded embarrassed, much to the younger man's amusement. He stepped out, holding his folded clothes in front of him as almost a protective gesture.

"Nice looking Lassie." Shawn grinned, handing him a firearm and a paintball as he took his clothes to put them in a locker.

"What is this for?" Lassiter held up the loose paintball, scrutinizing it.

"This." Shawn grinned, squishing another paintball in his own hands and immediately running the neon mess through the detective's hair.

"Damn it Spencer!" Lassiter shouted, reaching up to remove the hand from where it was leaving green streaks.

"You're doing it wrong." Shawn swatted his hand away. "You're supposed to return the favor."

"Why would I put paint in your hair?" He growled, resisting the urge to touch the sticky goop now spiked surprisingly evenly through his hair.

"Man. It's tradition. Gus and I started it. Though really it was more like camo pant on him…"

"Then keep it with Guster."

"You can't break tradition! It's bad luck. Come on Lassie." He whimpered, putting on his best puppy dog face.

Lassiter grimaced, looking at the look he was now receiving in disdain. He sighed as Shawn tilted his head down, discouraged. Roughly, he crushed the paintball and ruffled the psychic's hair, avoiding the surprised eye contact. When he withdrew his had, Shawn offered a towel to clean the paint off, simpering grin plastered in place.

"Happy?"

"Yes! Now let's go beat these guys!"

… … .. .

**So yeah. Declan might make an appearance later for various reasons, but he does make the story have a little depth. I still want Luntz for the role of boyfriend for a reason though. Soon the plot will thicken, but not before paintball goodness. Sorry for the shortness of the chapter.**


	10. Chapter 10

…**Still don't own Psych. **

… … .. .

There was a waiting room all contestants were told to wait in before the match started. Shawn looked the three other teams over, sucking in little details with lightning speed. He leaned back with an odd quirk to his smile, tilting his head so it rested on Lassie's shoulder. The detective jumped, glancing down at him with mild annoyance.

"What are you doing? Get off."

"Just listen. I just had a vision about theses guys."

"Something criminal?" Lassie's voice took a sharp edge as he tensed.

"No. Dude. Chill. Just some helpful info for this." Shawn smirked, ignoring the pointed looks they were now receiving.

"Isn't that cheating?"

"Cheating would be seeing the shots before they came, which I can't really do. Do you want to hear it Lassie-face, or not?"

"Fine." He crossed his arms, jostling Shawn slightly.

"Alright. The two in red are married, but not to each other. They've been on dates, but nothing between the sheets." Shawn turned his head slightly to make sure no one could read his lips.

"How is that helpful?" Lassiter shifted, uncomfortable feeling Shawn's breath on his cheek, though he logically knew it was so he could whisper to him easily.

"I'm getting to that. He's military, take a bullet type, so even if you go for her, you'll probably get him too."

"Aright, fine. What else?"

"The two in purple," Shawn looked at the young black man and his almost too pale to be lovely fiancée, "are engaged. She's pregnant though, so she's taking it easy, not that she knows that. He's way defensive though, so try and let someone else get her out."

Lassiter looked at her softly. Now that he knew to look for it, she certainly did seem to glow. No, he certainly would rather get a paintball pointblank to the gut than shoot a pregnant woman. He grunted, glancing back down at Spencer, waiting for him to continue.

"Those two in blue," Shawn continued, eyes locked with Lassiter's, "Those two are twins. They're close, real close. Like share everything with each other, don't have to use their eyes to communicate, close. They'll be the toughest for us. The other four, in the other waiting room, are all rookies, but these guys know what they're doing."

"Okay. Seriously. You haven't even been in the other waiting room." Carlton growled, his voice low.

Shawn jerked back, surprised by the rumbling sensation that filtered through his chest at Lassie's growl. "I'm psychic, remember. Besides Lurker out there always sets it up that way."

"That makes so much more sense." Lassiter shrugged him off of him, finally unnerved by the blatant stares.

"Contest'nts." The creepy cashier entered the waiting room, eyes narrowed dangerously in a sneer.

"Hey!" Shawn grinned, throwing his arms in the air in a pin wheeling motion. "What are you doing in here Creeper?"

The man fixed his beady eyes on Shawn, trailing heatedly across his arm, where his hand was resting on Lassiter's shoulder from nearly falling over. "The game's 'bout to start. Get yur selfs out there."

The groups shuffled out, whispering to themselves, ignoring his glare on each of them. All of them except Lassiter seemed to think nothing of it. The detective met his glare though, tearing the man's eyes off of the others with murderous intent. He slid his darkened goggles down, following the others out into the sunrise.

Lassiter was almost embarrassed as he stood there, lined up with the other contestants. Not, like he thought he would be, because he looked like an idiot standing next to Shawn with paint in his hair, but because of the other contestants. Shawn was right about the other four groups. They shifted about like cocky academy students, all bravado and no substance.

… ..

Lassiter hissed, yanking Shawn down from where he had almost been shot. A blue paintball splattered where the younger man's head had just been, but he simply grinned at the detective. The pair in purple had already retired, the woman having been shot by a man in red, and the man being peppered in back by a rookie as he took down the two in red.

The teams left were him and Spencer, the twins in blue, and three fortunate rookies, one who's partner suffered a barrage from Lassie. Said detective slung his head around the corner of their hideout, looking for signs of the other contestants. Shawn smirked, squirming out of Lassie's hold as he watched Lassiter's stern frown shift into a confident grin. His prey had been spotted.

Shawn took the moment of inattention towards him to slip away from Lassiter, bringing his gun up to bear on the young female twin who had a bead on Lassie. He let a paintball fly, hitting her square in the stomach before she could hit the older detective, who seemed all to aware that she had been focusing on him since he relaxed immediately after. With an alarming shout, one rookie shot the other twin, soon falling to three paintballs, one of which wasn't green.

The remaining two rookies were out in seconds.

"Way to go Lassie!" Shawn grinned, throwing his arms around the detective, only to be pushed roughly to the ground. "Ow. Meany."

"Stop touching me Spencer." He was smirking though.

… ..

It had been exhilarating, darting around, shooting live targets. Lassiter was almost sad to leave. They had changed quickly, still in a rush from the game, and Lassiter was too pumped to protest as Shawn followed him into his house.

Shawn plopped down in front of his couch, fiddling with his game system as Lassie headed into the kitchen, making sandwiches. He was starving, and he could only imagine that Spencer was too. He came out a moment later with two ham and cheese sandwiches on a single plate and took a seat next to Shawn.

"Boxing?" He asked, accepting the remote with one hand as he picked up his lunch.

"Ham without pineapples?" Shawn responded, biting into it all the same.

… ..

Gus sighed, eyeing the front of Lassiter's house with apprehension. Fun time with Lassie usually wasn't. And as much as he trusted Shawn, he knew his friend had a reckless streak. Like all the other whirlwinds of fun that ended in disaster, he was sure tonight would land them two steps from jail-time and even that was only because Juliet would defend them.

Speaking of Juliet, Gus quickly exited his car as he saw her pulling up. She paused, waiting for him to cross the street before she headed up the drive. He looked between her and the door, an almost pleading look on his face.

"Do we have to go up there?"

"Yes." She laughed, walking slowly towards the door.

"Ha! Take that!" Lassiter growled as he won another match.

"Ung." Shawn flopped back against the couch. "I was so close that time."

The both jumped as the door bell rang. Shawn bounced to his feet, a wide grin plastered on his face as he raced to open the door. Lassiter glanced down at his watch, only just noticing the dim streetlights filtering through the window. Shawn wrenched the door open to two very surprised guests, ignoring as Lassiter leapt up to stop him.

"Gussy! Jules! Yay!" Shawn paused, looking them over. "Did you come here together?"

"What? No. We ran into each other on the walk." Gus blushed, shaking his head.

"Did you apologize? Are you alright? You really should watch where you're going." Shawn grinned.

"What is in your hair?" Juliet frowned, reaching forward to touch the messy green goop dried in place.

"O'Hara. Guster." Lassiter sighed, "Sorry about that. We lost track of time."

"That's alright." Gus nodded, looking at Shawn with confusion.

"Shawn is this paint?" Juliet frowned, poking his stiff hair as she glanced over at her partner. "Carlton! Why do you two have paint in your hair?"

Lassiter stiffened in surprise, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "Damn it Spencer!"

"You're messing it up!" Shawn complained, though no one could tell if it was directed at Jules or Lassie.

"Shawn. Why do you two have green paint in your hair?" Gus narrowed his eyes in an accusatory manner.

"It's a tradition!" Shawn grinned, raising his arms for emphasis.

"That's our tradition Shawn. You and I do the paintball thing. I can't believe you shared it with Lassiter."

"Don't be a wet skittle Gus."

"I need to go wash my hair." Carlton stepped out of the door way. "Sit down in the living room and don't touch anything until I'm done."

"What? No! You can't rinse it out till morning!" Shaw protested, flinging himself around the detective's arms and waist to impede his movement.

"I'm not leaving paint in my hair all night Spencer."

"You two can go take a shower, we'll wait." Juliet smirked, stepping into the house.

Gus tripped over the threshold, staring at Juliet in horror. Shawn and Lassiter were too focused on their own argument about the necessity of the green paint to really have listened to her statement though. Gus shuddered, slamming the door shut as he tried to rid himself of that thought. Lassiter turned to him sharply, an annoyed look on his face.

"Be careful with my door Guster."

"Sorry."

"So are we agreed Lassie? You change into a nice pair of jeans, and we worry about your hair later?"

"I hate you." Lassiter said flatly, walking back towards his room.

"Is that a yes?" Shawn trotted after him.

"Out." Lassiter pushed him back as he began shutting the door. "I'm just changing to get you to shut up."

Shawn returned to the living room, triumphant grin on his face. Gus rolled his eyes, trying hard to focus on what was normal about the situation, which was very little. Juliet looked down at the game system, noting the haphazard placement of controllers and game case. Shawn followed her line of sight, and quickly stooped to put the game away.

"So. How are things going?" She asked casually.

"Why Jules, you aren't worried about me, are you?" Shawn didn't turn to face her, still cleaning up his mess.

"You. And Carlton."

Shawn stood up slowly, glancing immediately towards the bedroom. "Partners. I get that." He looked quickly at Gus, before meeting her eyes. "It's better. It'll be better."

"What does that even mean Shawn?"

"I means I still have two more days."

… … .. .

**Slowly but surely I progress. Paintball goodness is temporarily over, so next chapter may include fluff and progress. I make no guarantees though.**


	11. Chapter 11

…**Still not owning. Beware the ensuing drama.**

… … .. .

It was strange, definitely, to see Carlton so casual. Spiked hair, cheep sunglasses, blue jeans, and a collared shirt not buttoned all the way to the collar. Shawn's smile widened into a face-splitting grin at the sight and, with a whoop, they were headed out the door. Jules hadn't even known her partner owned a pair of blue jeans, but he was wearing the undeniable proof.

Shawn noted with some annoyance that they were all taking separate cars. Well, other than him. He slid in next to Lassiter, waving at Gus with a childish grin. The fake psychic muttered the directions to the bar he had selected for the night, singing 'following the leader' every chance in between. By the end of the ride, Lassie was gripping the steering wheel tightly, a pained expression of fury on his face.

"Give me my gun. I'm going to shoot you." He reached for the glove box.

"No! Lassies! I'm just not ready yet!" Shawn flailed about sporadically, effectively blocking the glove compartment.

"Not ready for what Spencer?"

Shawn wiggled his eyebrows teasingly and was promptly booted from the detective's car. Gus and Juliet both waited patiently as Shawn darted around the car and Lassiter pursued with empty threats. He finally pinned the psychic roughly to the hood of his car, breathing heavily through his nose. In spite of the pain in his shoulder from the graceless placement of his arm, Shawn was chortling madly. Gus coughed awkwardly into his hand and Lassiter let the younger man go with a begrudging growl.

With a wide grin, he led them into the bar. It was a nice place, not overly upscale, but far from seedy. It was also upbeat and full of young, happily-drunk people. Not exactly Lassiter's ideal bar, but he could ignore the music and have a drink. Gus spotted a lovely looking girl across the room and made his way over. Jules headed out onto the dance floor, enjoying the peppy music. Shawn's eyes followed her, but he stayed rooted in his spot.

"You can ask her to dance." Lasstier sighed as he started off to the bar, away from Spencer.

"I can't believe Gus just bailed on me." He hurriedly ignored the suggestion, following the detective. "We were all supposed to be hanging out.

"If you like her, at least ask her to dance." Carlton growled in annoyance, hoping to get to drink in peace. "You can't just not talk to her."

Shawn bit his lip, looking back at Lassie, who had finally caught a bartender's attention and was being served a scotch. Obviously he wanted to drink alone, or not with him at least. Glancing back at Jules, he noticed how she was dancing alone. At the very least, they could hang out and have fun, right?

He clapped Lassiter on the back, grinning as he decided to set out. "I'll be back. Don't drink yourself under the bar."

Said detective snorted, positive he didn't want to get drunk and leave his getting home safely to Shawn. The fake psychic made his way out to the dance floor and tapped Juliet on the shoulder.

"I'm sensing you don't have a dancing partner."

"Cute Shawn." She rolled her eyes, but agreed to dance with him. "I should have invited Luntz. Then I would have had someone to dance with and you could have kept hanging out with Carlton."

Shawn stopped dancing, looking slightly hurt. "You can't really be serious about that guy. You don't even call him by his first name."

"Shawn! That doesn't matter. And I am." She put her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed.

"Why can't we try-"

"No Shawn. We tried once. It didn't work out."

"Maybe we didn't try hard enough. We were too worried about it interfering with work. If we tried again, I'd be willing to stop consulting and just do my own thing." Shawn pleaded, reaching for her hand.

"Stop it Shawn." She pulled back. "We have more fun as friends. We just don't belong in a relationship. I'm sure you'll find some really nice person that you'll finally have a lasting relationship with, but that can't be me Shawn."

"But…Jules…"

"No Shawn." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I was hoping to have a good night tonight, without anything like this. I can't do this with you."

Shawn kept his mouth closed as she walked away. He turned towards the bar, rather than watch her walk out the door and leave. Sitting down next to Lassie, he ordered something strong and fruity and gulped it down bitterly. Lassiter looked over at him skeptically, resisting the urge to yank the drink from his hand and stop the binge before it started. Shawn set down the empty drink though and seemed disinterested in ordering another.

"So much for 'can't not talk to her' eh?"

"So?" He had to admit, he was curious about why his partner stormed off.

"So? So it didn't work. She's pissed at me. I should have known it wasn't worth the effort."

"No wonder she said no. You clearly don't give a damn and didn't try hard enough."

Shawn froze, knowing Carlton hadn't heard, but angry to have been slapped with his own words anyway. The slight buzz from the alcohol he just downed didn't help his judgment and he snapped his head to the side, glaring at the older man.

"Like you even know what it takes to get back the girl of your dreams. I should have known better than to listen to you for love advice."

"Excuse me?" Lassiter snapped, slamming his drink down.

People surrounding them stepped aside, but paid no heed to the elevated discussion forming. Shawn's hands were fisted at his side, his green eyes focused on Lassie's blue. Now that he started, he couldn't stop.

"I shouldn't take relationship advice from a man that not only ruined his marriage, but couldn't put it back together when he finally realized what he was missing. At least I knew what I was loosing when I stepped away from Jules."

"Look Spencer. I did my best with my ex. I loved her but she had moved on."

"Maybe you just didn't try hard enough. Or didn't love her enough. I _didn't_ love Juliet. I _STILL_ love her." He snapped bitterly, not thinking before he spoke.

Lassiter leaned back from Shawn, a cold look on his face. "You don't even know what love is Spencer. Get a ride from Guster. I'm leaving."

He placed the price of his drink on the bar and stormed off, out the front door. The bartender took the cash and glanced at Shawn, who shook his head, pushing off to find Gus. Said friend was chatting casually with another girl, who seemed mildly interested, but bored.

"Did you hear about that new planet they found? Pretty cool hu?" Gus nodded smoothly to the girl, who rolled her eyes and walked away.

"Gus. I need a ride home." Shawn mumbled.

"I though you were going with Lassiter?" He frowned, disregarding the girl who had shunned him.

"He left. So did Jules. I…yeah."

He sighed. "Yeah. You know I would."

"Thanks. Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna go get plastered."

With a shrug, Gus followed, mostly to make sure Shawn didn't hurt himself. It was bound to be a long night.

… ..

"Mmmh. Shanks fur being an awshome pal Gussy." Shawn mumbled as he leaned against the blueberry's window.

"Just don't vomit. This is a company car."

"We shuld buy one fur Pysch." He giggled lightly, watching lights stream by.

"We don't need one Shawn. Where am I taking you?"

"Lashies. I should 'pologish."

"That's a bad idea. You're drunk." He started that direction anyway.

"Yup. Ish why I drank sho mush. He'sh not sho scawy if I'm drunk."

"That is terrible logic Shawn."

"Yup. Shank you Gussy."

… ..

Lassiter groaned, climbing out of bed to answer the incessant pounding on the door. It was late. His clock read close to midnight. Gun in hand, he wrenched to door open, causing the psychic leaning on it to tumble inward. He barely caught Shawn before he hit the floor, a confused, agitated look on his face.

"Dats poor gun shafety Lashies." Shawn mumbled into the detective's chest, pointing the gun away from his stomach.

"Not if I plan to shoot you. What are you doing here? And drunk." Carlton wrinkled his nose at the heavy alcohol scent and glanced outside to see if Gus was around.

He wasn't.

"How long have you been outside?" He quickly followed up.

"Ah…hour I shink? Gussy dropped me off and I shold him to go. But I didn't know what to shay."

"You're an idiot." He decided, closing the door and leading Shawn to the living room.

After situating the drunken Psychic on his couch, he started for the kitchen, deciding water might help. Shawn grabbed his arm, only effectively stopping him because of surprise.

"Don't go yet. I'll forget what I wanted to shay."

"You're slurring Spencer. Don't worry about it." He hoped to get out of the awkward responsibility of caring for him soon.

"I'm sorry." Shawn whispered, slurs diminished with the volume. "You were right, sort of."

Carlton supposed that was the best he would get. As much as he didn't want to forgive Shawn, he knew where he was coming from. Nodding slightly, he continued into the kitchen and Shawn let him go, leaning back on the couch. When he returned, Shawn was snoring obnoxiously, laying on his back on the couch.

Lassiter shook his head, setting the water on the table and turning to Spencer. That wasn't really a safe position for a drunk. He leaned Shawn up on his side, tucking his arms around him to keep him propped up. Heading back into the kitchen, he grabbed a couple pots and headed back out. Looking at Shawn, he set a pot on the ground in front of him, to make clean up easier. Deciding it was, however, Shawn, he placed one at the end of the couch, in case he woke up and puked over the arm of the couch.

Once he was sure the psychic wouldn't do too much damage to himself, he threw a blanket over him and returned to his bed. With luck, he would wake up and it was a dream. Then he wouldn't feel guilty about Shawn getting drunk because of him.

… ..

When Lassiter was fully awake, showered, and armed, he headed into the living room. Shawn was sitting woozily on the couch, sipping at the glass of water. He headed into the kitchen to make coffee and eggs. Caffeine helped with some of the pain from headaches and breakfast would help with the nausea. He jumped when he heard the water turn on, and turned to see Shawn washing out one of the vomit buckets.

"Who's idea was it to put this at the end of the couch?"

"Mine. You're weird enough that you _would_ vomit over my armrest."

"Hm. Sorry. About what I said and for showing up at your house drunk." Shawn shut off the water, turning to watch him prepare breakfast.

"You're not the first drunk I've dealt with." He shrugged. "And…I now how it feels to loose your temper when you're dealing with your love life."

"Thanks." He smirked, watching him. "I…uh…didn't do anything to weird last night…did I?"

"Not for you." Lassiter glanced over his shoulder, interested in what he thought would happen. "Why?"

"Oh…not reason. Sometimes spirits just find it easy to possess me."

"You can be possessed?" He turned around fully, a skeptical look on his face.

"Well…maybe more influenced than possessed." Shawn waggled his eyes, sashaying up to the detective. "I'm easy to influence."

"You're certainly easy." Lassiter shook his head, turning around to continue cooking.

"Jokes! Ow…" Shawn rubbed his head to relieve the throbbing his raised voice induced.

"That's why I was speaking softly." Lassiter informed him, grabbing plates to dump the scrambled eggs onto.

"Here I thought you were trying to seduce me." Shawn smirked, accepting his plate.

… ..

Lassiter folded the blanket up and set it on the end of the couch, content that everything had been cleaned. He could hear Shawn splashing about in the shower, singing a song about pineapple wine. He didn't bother hiding his smile as he sat down on the couch and leaned back, closing his eyes. He wasn't sure what it was that was making him smile, but he had a feeling the quiet morning had something to do with it. Shawn with a hangover was a quiet Shawn.

His phone started ringing, and he lazily brought it up to his ear, not bothering to open his eyes and check the caller-ID. "Hello."

"Detective Lassiter." Chief Vick's voice rang in his ear, causing him to sit up like a bolt.

"Chief. Is something wrong?"

"I'm afraid so. I hate to do this, but I need to cut your vacation short. I need you to come to a crime scene immediately. And see if you can't get a hold of Shawn or Gus. We need their help on this one."

"Yes Chief. We'll be there soon." He hung up, too overjoyed at his return to duty to realize what he said.

She, however, stared down at her phone, pondering the word _we_ greatly.

"Hey Lassie?" Shawn called, stepping into the living room in just a towel. "Can you take me home so I can get clothes?"

"No time. Throw something of mine on." He called, heading into his room to grab a jacket and tie.

"Vick is letting you back on because of a tough case?" He followed, surveying the drawers and hangers for something acceptable.

"How did you?" Lasstier stopped, shaking his head. "Never mind. Yes."

"Cool." Shawn grabbed a small looking pink shirt and another of Lassiter's pairs of jeans.

"You never wear these things. Why do you even have them?" Shawn noted they were decidedly too small for the cop, but still too large for him.

"My wife bought them for me. Couldn't even remember my size." He growled, straightening his tie and leaving to room.

Shawn glanced down at the offending material, feeling slightly betrayed. He slipped them on though, knowing Lassie wouldn't wait for long. Stepping out into the living room, where Lassiter was tying on his shoulder holster, Shawn felt overdressed. He told himself it was just dress-up and he could work it in his favor, only to trip on the longer pant legs.

Carlton glanced up at him and noted the almost falling off clothes. Sighing, he headed back into his room and returned with a belt. As Shawn applied said belt and tucked his shirt in, Lassie knelt down to fold up the cuffs on the pants.

"Aww. Lassie. Worried I'll trip and hurt myself?"

"Even If I don't wear them, I don't want you ripping up the cuffs of any of my pants stepping on them." He kept his eyes down, ignoring how strange the scenario was.

Shawn had his shoes on shortly and Lassiter jumped in the car, turning the police scanner on for the first time in close to a week. Shawn was on the phone with Gus as they raced to the scene. He managed to reach it at the same time as them.

"Props man. That was quick."

"Please Shawn. I know these roads like the back of my hand."

"Really? Because I bet I know the back of your hands better than you do."

"Shut up." Lassiter growled, "And try to behave professionally."

Gus looked Shawn over, catching his arm to speak privately with him.

"Are you wearing Lassiter's clothes?"

"Yeah. Turns out his ex didn't know his size."

"Why the hell are you wearing his clothes?" He squeaked, watching the officers greet the detective warily.

"Well I didn't have a change of clothes at his house last night, Duh. And we were in a hurry this morning so he lent me some clothing and his shower. I couldn't come to a crime scene with paint still in my hair." Shawn rolled his eyes, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's weird Shawn."

"Don't be one of those big eyed forest creatures that we saw on the nature channel the other day." Shawn huffed. "I steal your shirts all the time."

"I know that." Gus hissed.

"Is that what this is about? I'm not replacing you with Lassie."

"That's not what I think Shawn. Come on. We have to get inside."

Shawn frowned, but followed into the motel room. He quickly noted the red splatters on the door. Paint splatters in an 'X' pattern. The paint didn't continue onto the frame though, so the door was open when the perp put the 'X' there. There were no signs of struggle in the immediate entry way. The victim hadn't heard him enter the room, most likely.

Lassiter was frozen in place in front of the bed, where the two victims were laying. Juliet and several officers were staring at him, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment on his part. Shawn slid up next to him with Gus and froze too at what he saw. Gus turned away from all the blood, and imagined no one was willing to say anything because it may have still been too early for the pair to see something like that.

"Lassie." Shawn croaked. "This is bad."

Lassiter couldn't help but agree, but only because he was staring down at the bodies of the adulterous pair they had played paintball with the morning before. Juliet narrowed her eyes, glancing between Shawn on the bodies. Before she could speak, he was dragging on Gus and Lassiter's arms, backing them away from the other officers.

"What is bad Shawn?" Gus hissed, glancing back at the confused officers.

"We were playing paintball with these people the other day." Carlton growled, voice low.

"We could get kicked off the case if Vick gets word of that." Shawn explained quickly.

"So we should tell her!" Gus insisted.

"No. She just called us back." Lassie frowned. "We don't really have a connection to the case. But she might use it as an excuse…"

"Uh…Guys?" Juliet called, confused. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Shawn called merrily, breaking off. "Just discussing."

"What?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, again.

"Lunch. We're getting sick of Shenanigans."

"Spencer." Lassiter clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Chief Vick may have invited you, but I will kick you out of this crime scene."

"Hey…Uh...Shawn?" Buzz paused as he entered the room, multiple coffees in hand. "Why are you wearing Detective Lassiter's belt?"

All eyes turned to him, his belt, and subsequently Lassiter. Buzz hurriedly handed the coffee out, realizing his error once again. He hadn't meant to recognize his gift to the officer the Christmas prior, but he had. Lassie had fixed an annoyed look at him, but turned to the body.

"What do we know about the victims?"

"Ah…Not much we haven't found their IDs yet." One officer hurried.

While he went through his routine chewing people out, Shawn glanced over the bodies. Two shots, the first while they were cuddling, the second while pleading for her life. Something was very weird about the shots though. The bullet holes weren't like they should be. First they were unusually messy and large. Second, they were into the soft tissue at the side of the neck, severing the arteries and causing the bleed out.

He caught sight of a different shade of red and quickly checked the other wound visually. The blood had mostly hid it, but there was no mistaking that bright red. He leaned over to Gus, ensuring no one was watching.

"Hey Gus…How hard would it be to kill someone with and ice bullet?"

"It's ridiculous Shawn. The heat of the propellant used to force it out the barrel would melt it."

"But what if it were, like a paintball or something."

"Paintballs can break the skin at close ranges. Frozen ones could do real damage, but why would someone use a paintball to kill someone?"

"Don't know, but we're about to find out." He scooted himself into position, readying for the show. "Gah! C-c-cold…So cold."

A collective eye roll turned to witness the drama. Shawn had been starting to tone down his visions, but apparently was back at it, flopping about. The psychic raised his hands to cover his head.

"No! That hurts! It's wet! And icy! Gah! They're piercing my skin!"

"Is it hail?" Gus offered.

"Yes! Ah." Shawn shifted touching his temple and kneeling down. "Lincoln…no…Lennon…RFK? No that's not right…"

"All of them were assassinated!" Jules jumped on the train of thought. "Were the couple assassinated?"

"No…No…Oswald…"

"JFK?" Lassiter asked.

Shawn snapped his fingers and pointed at the detective. "That's right. JFK. He was assassinated with an ice bullet."

"He was not Shawn. That's just a crazy conspiracy." Gus huffed.

"Why is that the one conspiracy you don't believe?"

"It's ridiculous Shawn."

"No it isn't."

"Are you telling me you think the pair were shot with ice bullets?" Lassiter sighed, not really in the mood for more of these antics.

"Not ice. A frozen paintball."

… … .. .

**So yeah. Soon we will be in the thick of the plot. Hope you're liking it so far.**


	12. Chapter 12

…**Still not owning. Beware of plot, for it invades.**

… … .. .

"Bye Lassie-frass." Shawn called as he and Gus headed out.

"Get back here Spencer." He called absentmindedly, focused on his work at hand.

"Hm?" He paused, "Oh Lassie, don't worry, I'll come by later."

"NO." He growled, looking up. "I actually want you to keep your head low on this. I'm tired of showdowns with perps pointing guns at you."

"I'm touched Lassie." Shawn purred, grinning. "But I doubt you really ever get tired of whipping your gun out."

"GET OUT OF HERE SPENCER!" The head detective roared, "AND YOU ALL! GET BACK TO WORK AND QUIT SNICKERING!"

The other officers turned back to their work quickly, restraining their laughs as best they could. Juliet watched Shawn as he left, brow furrowed. If he was wearing Lassiter's clothes, did that mean he spent the night? Was Lassiter just some kind of rebound for him after she rejected him the night before? She shook her head, knowing better. Lassiter wouldn't stand for that. But he had been at her partner's for some reason.

… ..

"Why are we here Shawn?" Gus followed him up to the paintball store. "Shouldn't we be breaking into their houses or something?"

"That would be breaking the law Gus. Besides, Lurker will know who they are, unlike us or the cops."

"Oh." Gus said lamely.

Shawn shot him a worried look. He'd been off on his game. It was too late for that though as they were entering the shop. The creepy cashier leered up at them, casting a particular glance at Gus.

"Hello my good man. I'm Shawn Spencer and this here is my partner: J. L. Squiggles."

"Shawn. He knows who we are."

"Oh. Right. Habit."

"Back again?" He sneered at Gus. "What do you two want?"

"Remember the game yesterday? Who were the two in red?" Shawn cut to the chase, leaning on the counter as he messed with surrounding items.

"What's it to you?"

"Just trying to find them. One of them dropped their wedding ring on the field and I happened to pick it up." Shawn grinned.

"Which one, guy or girl?" The man snorted.

"Er…Don't know. Tell me both and I'll figure it out." He grinned, hoping the man wouldn't question that logic.

He didn't, grabbing his book with a disgruntled sigh. Slowly, he flipped through it, looking at each page critically, as if the sign-in for the previous day might have moved. Finally, he fixed a heavy eye on Shawn and turned the book so he could see it. Said psychic quickly scanned all of the names to keep track of before settling on the two being pointed out.

"Thanks." He grinned, leaving.

Gus huffed once they were out of there. "That man gives me the creeps."

"Come on. I've got the addresses. We should do some research first."

"Wait…you want to do research?"

"I don't want to be the one to tell these people their spouses were found dead in a hotel room together." He frowned.

Gus nodded. No matter how carefree and callous Shawn seemed on the outside, he knew that sometimes the police were better situated to breaking news to people. That and he had gotten in trouble more than once for being labeled a suspicious person that was just asking about the deceased. Gus stopped as he turned the engine over though, turning to Shawn, in the passenger seat, with a confused look.

"Why did we go there then? If you were just going to wait until the police got the addresses anyway?"

"Not for the two dead ones. I wanted the other player's addresses, just incase."

"Shawn, these people were adulterers. They probably got caught by one of their spouses and were killed by them."

"Gus. Stop making up words. And I happen to disagree. There is something too weird about this."

"I'm not making up words Shawn. Look it up in the dictionary." He huffed, starting out of the parking lot.

"Yeah. Whatever you say pal." Shawn had already started to go into his own world, thinking about what he already knew.

… ..

"It says here that he's a business partner in some bouncy castle business."

"Really? Sweet." Shawn pitched back in his chair, pulling his feet off his desk. "Let's go. I'm sure they've already found their ID and scoped the place."

"You mean told him his wife was having an affair?"

"Are we going?" Shawn rolled his eyes.

Gus sighed, grabbing his keys and heading out. They'd spent plenty of time researching all the people Shawn was concerned with. Confident that he knew something he would need, he was ready to deal with the rest of the investigation.

Shawn sighed in resignation as they pulled up the same time as Lassiter's now so familiar car. Said detective leapt out of his car, a furious look on his face. Shawn grinned as he stepped out, waving courteously to Juliet. She waved back slowly, unsure if it was alright to pretend nothing happened. Gus nodded to her and turned to see Lassie towering over the fake psychic.

"What are you doing here Spencer?"

"I divined the location. What took you so long?"

"Some of us do real police work before they talk to the families of the deceased."

"You couldn't find their ID's?"

"Shut up Spencer."

"Are you going to point a gun at him?"

"That depends." Lassiter growled. "Mostly on if he does something to deserve it."

Shawn took the clear threat with a smirk. He offered his arm to Lassiter, which was promptly ignored. The group headed up to the front and Carlton pounded firmly on the door. A lean man, tall with a neat beard, opened the door.

"Detective Carlton Lassiter." The man frowned, looking over them all. "And the police psychic Shawn Spencer. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Wait. How do you know who we are?" Shawn pouted.

"Some people in this town keep up on the news." The man chuckled, stepping to the side. "Please, come in."

"Thank you for cooperating. Mr. Logan" Lassiter nodded.

Once they were inside, he shut the door, sighing heavily. Shawn glanced quickly around, noting the cold, clinical feel of the place. A single photo of Gabriel Logan and his wife Kaitlyn hung from the wall, like an identifying placard: If you don't know these faces you've come to the wrong house. The inhabitants of the home obviously chose the furniture for the stylish looks, because if they had ever sat in them they would realize they were uncomfortable.

"So?" Mr. Logan droned. "Who died?"

"Pardon?" Jules yelped even as the other three turned to him in suspicion.

"The majority of Mr. Spencer's cases are murders." The man explained flatly. "I suppose it could be fraud or theft just as easily. Who is this about though? My business partner? One of my employees? A competitor?"

"Your wife." Lassiter offered tensely.

The man whipped his head around, meeting Lassiter's cold look with one of surprise. He shifted to the others and met remorse, awkward indifference, and…well Shawn didn't meet his eyes because he was busy looking around. The man sat heavily on his couch, barely casting it a look for being so uncomfortable.

"We're sorry for your loss, but we have a few questions for you." Juliet continued.

"Who was she with?" Logan turned to Shawn.

"What makes you think she was with someone?" Lassiter growled.

"I was in love, not stupid." He offered.

Lassiter bit his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn't. Shawn and Gus elbowed each other for much the same effect. Logan eyed them a moment before continuing.

"I know she was cheating on me. She was just in our relationship for the money. I didn't mind that though because I loved her."

… ..

"That was a waste of time." Lassiter growled as they left the house.

"Oh…I don't know. He was keen on my bouncy castle idea." Shawn smiled.

"He seemed awfully calm about the news of his wife's death." Juliet pointed out.

"He also knew she was cheating. Maybe he got jealous." Gus glanced back at the house, noting the man was watching them, on the phone.

"No. He didn't do it." Shawn placed his hand to his temple. "I'm sensing that Gabriel hasn't seen his wife in a few months."

"And just how did you decide on that?" Lassiter snorted.

Shawn opened his mouth to answer, too lost in his own thoughts to think it through, but Lassiter clapped a hand over his mouth. Shawn glanced up at him in shock.

"Never mind. I already know what you're going to say." Lassie glanced down at him, meeting his eyes.

Shawn was surprised to see a touch of fear and worried in those deep pools. Lassie really did know what he was about to say, basically. Shawn couldn't admit it yet though and Lassie had stopped him. The worry, then, Shawn deduced, was because he had been so absent-minded as to almost say something he shouldn't. He grinned against the hand still covering his mouth, knowing it reached his eyes by the way Lassiter looked away.

"Uh…you might not want to do that." Gus warned.

Lassiter glanced over at him, surprised. "It shut him up. He's finally being quiet."

Shawn flicked his tongue out, dragging it across the detective's palm. He was only mildly surprised to taste sweetened coffee, gun metal and cleaning oil. Apparently Carlton had cleaned his gun while Shawn was taking a shower. The salt and pepper haired detective yanked his hand away.

"Yuck." Lassiter hissed, wiping his hand on Shawn's chest. "That's disgusting,"

"Oh come on." Shawn snickered. "You could have a lot worse things than my spit on your hands."

Lassiter froze, eyeing Shawn with a certain mistrust. Gingerly, as if he were afraid Shawn would grab him and lick him again, he drew his hand back. Juliet was a fair shade of red, too aware of the innuendo behind the psychic's words. Gus nodded thoughtfully for a moment, before he caught on to the statement and gaped at his friend in horror.

"Like melted skittles or that sticky stuff they put on envelopes that never tastes good." Shawn finished, grinning madly.

"I have work. Don't bother me right now." Lassiter informed, heading back to his car.

Juliet followed, glancing repeatedly back at Shawn as she did. He narrowed his eyes, trying to read into her behavior, but coming up short. Gus punched his arm lightly, heading to their car. Shawn looked over at him, and frowned as he trailed after. It wasn't just Jules. Everyone was acting weird. He paused as a thought came to mind, turning back and seeing Lassie getting into his car.

"Hey! Lassie! Want me to come by and bother you later? I'm still wearing your clothes!" Everyone froze, turning to look at Shawn.

This time, he gauged their reactions. Lassiter looked annoyed, as usual. Gus was awkwardly looking at his clothes. Jules was staring at him, and subsequently her partner. A strange look crossed her face and, while too far away for Shawn to be sure of what she was thinking, it looked decidedly expectant. Interesting.

"You can stop watching me now." Lassiter informed him curtly. "You have a new assignment."

Shawn frowned, realizing he was right, but knowing he wasn't done. "Then…Can I come over anyway?"

Lassiter looked up at him in surprise. He could almost swear he was pouting over there. And…he was asking for permission. Because it was no longer his assignment? He felt strangely compelled to say yes. It took all of his will power not to blurt out his answer without a second thought. He wasn't supposed to want to be near him. They weren't friends. They didn't hang out willingly.

Back across the distance, Shawn was biting his lip. He shouldn't have asked, because now he was going to say no and up until that point they had a tentative arrangement. He didn't ask to stay and Lassiter didn't ask him to leave. Now, Lassie would have to say no, no matter what. Not that he would want to say anything else. Why had he been so stupid?

"Fine, but bring a change of clothes. I want those back." Lassiter offered in a offhand manner, as of he were telling the other man to get out of his life, rather than inviting him over.

Shawn's heart nearly skipped a beat in surprise, so he jumped up and down for it. "Yay! We'll have another sleep over!"

"No!" Lassiter yelled in alarm. "Spencer! No!"

Shawn didn't listen though as he decided to dive into the blueberry, hollering to Gus for a quick getaway. He noted with some satisfaction that he could discern that last look on Jules' face. It was most definitely elation. Now he just had to figure out what she would be so elated about by that exchange. Gus, for all that he _was_ driving, was giving him a concerned look.

"Why are you going to Lassie's?"

"Why not? I still have to make sure he's alright." Shawn informed him, fiddling with the radio.

"Never mind Shawn." Gus focused on the road, swatting his friend's hand from the radio.

"What is going on?" Shawn huffed, crossing his arms in annoyance. "Why is everyone acting so weird? There's something you're not telling me. Ever since Chief Vick told me to keep an eye on him, everyone's been watching me like something's going to happen."

"It's nothing Shawn." Gus insisted.

"That wasn't nothing. People are expressing unusual interest in my spending time with Lassiter." Shawn wasn't backing down, taking a serious note instead.

"You're being paranoid Shawn. At most, people are interested in your dull-witted gallantry at spending time with a trigger-happy detective." Gus hoped to divert him with the explanation.

"This isn't just a pool on how long until he shoots me. What's up?" Shawn didn't bite.

Gus pulled up outside of psych, gesturing for him to get out. "It's nothing important Shawn. Really. I have to get to work."

Shawn nodded, getting out of the car. Gus wouldn't say anything else, he knew that. He had admitted there was something going through people's minds though. Something about him and Lassie. Now he just needed to find someone easier to break than Gus. Jules might work. Or Buzz.

Shawn grinned at the thought, knowing Buzz was an open book to him. If he knew what was going on, Shawn would be able to worm it out of him. First, though, he had more work to do. Solve the case, then he gets to investigate his own interests. That was how he generally did it, not that he would give up a chance to get the information if it presented itself.

… ..

Shawn groaned, flopping back in his seat and rubbing his eyes. He was only just realizing he had been on the computer ever since Gus left. He hadn't found anything on the people either of the couple knew that would warrant him looking into them. There was just no reason to kill them.

Sure, they both committed adultery, but Jules had called him, telling him the soldier's wife hadn't even known he was back in town and they were going through a trial separation anyway. Both of their lawyers insisted it was a surprisingly smooth process since they were both friends and wanted it to stay that way. So there was no real motive there.

That left him sure that it had something to do with the paintball, like he had originally thought. The problem was finding out who and why.

A loud knock on the door frame brought his attention back to the real world. He looked up to see who had entered the psych office, to see Lassiter leaning on the wall. His brow was furrowed, blue eyes watching the fake psychic intently. Shawn stood up, nervousness twisting in his stomach. Why was Lassie in the psych office? Lassiter quirked his eyebrow and Shawn realized he had just asked that out loud.

"You said you were coming over. It's pretty late out." Lassiter answered.

"Were you worried?" Shawn grinned, falling back into comfortable teasing.

"Yes." Lassiter answered curtly, shocking the psychic. "I wasn't kidding this morning."

Shawn's grin faltered and color rose to his cheeks. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can. But you don't. Last time…" Lassiter broke eye contact, recalling the previous case.

Shawn had a knack for interrupting people's escape attempts. That had been no different and the club owner had launched at him with a spare hook in hand. It hadn't been one of his finer moments. He scrambled to fend the man off, and Lassie arrived just in time to push the muzzle of his gun against the owner's temple. For once, Shawn wasn't injured, but thoughts of all the times he had been had been floating in Lassiter's mind for days.

The broken leg. The gun shot to the arm. The bruises and scrapes from endless grappling sessions. That wasn't even taking into account how many times he had been held at gun point or shot at. When others were involved, Shawn intentionally drew the gunner's attention, but it happened far too often on its own for the detective's comfort.

"You're a consultant, not an officer. You don't need to be in the way of the bullets." Carlton looked up to meet Shawn's eyes again, a determined, soft look in his own.

If the other's sudden appearance hadn't thrown him off, nor the confession of worry, then the uncharacteristic look he was receiving now certainly did. Shawn was speechless. That Lassiter not only believed he was worth protecting, but honestly felt it was his job to do so, was oddly touching. Once the thundering in his ears died down, he grinned, green eyes, dancing with delight.

"Not that I don't appreciate the bedroom eyes Lassie, but we should probably get to a bedroom for that. The windows here are a bit exposing." Shawn winked. "Unless you're one of those exigenceonists."

"Exhibitionists." Lassiter corrected, pulling a face at the thought.

"I've heard it both ways."

"That isn't even a real word." Lassiter snorted. "Exigencies are urgent needs. You can't be one."

"I disagree." Shawn rounded his desk, picking up his keys as he headed for the door. "You just don't realize how urgent a need I am because you haven't tried it yet."

"I can leave you here and barricade my house to keep you out." Lassiter informed him, heading out the front door. "Don't tempt me by behaving weirdly."

"Tempt you to what?" Shawn snickered, locking the office behind them.

"I may not let anyone else shoot you, but I will put a bullet in your leg." Lassiter growled.

"Oh Lassie. Possessiveness isn't becoming. You'd nurse me back to health though, right?" Shawn grinned, slipping into the car.

"No. Which way to your house? You still need a change of clothes." Lassiter turned the engine over, resigning himself to another night of pestering and awkward fun.

… ..

Lassiter was surprised to see the memorabilia and various collectables strewn across Shawn's place. Shawn yanked a few fresh shirts from the rack, tossing them to Lassiter. He looked down at them in surprise, only to have pants thrown in his face shortly after. He glared over at Spencer, who was busying himself with other parts of his room.

"What are you doing Spencer?"

"You said I needed clothes."

"One pair should be fine. You can change here and I can take my clothes back."

"I could, but if I keep clothes at your house then I wouldn't have to borrow yours again." Shawn informed him curtly, a wily grin on his face.

"You wouldn't have this problem if you stopped staying over at my house." He growled.

"They how about you stay over tonight?" Shawn smiled shyly at him.

Lassie felt heat rising to his cheeks and turned around, heading back to the door. He missed the look of uncertainty that crossed Shawn's face. He glanced back over his shoulder, and Shawn was looking at him expectantly.

"You left your clothes at my house this morning." He wasn't sure why he was mumbling, but his voice was barely audible. "And I don't think anything of yours will fit me."

Shawn smirked, forcing a happy look on his face. "So it's your place?"

Lassiter frowned. "Who said your staying with me?"

"Well…" Shawn wrapped his arms around the bundle of clothes Carlton was still holding, casting his best puppy dog eyes up at him. "It is late, after all and I still have to get my things from your place."

Lassiter gulped, releasing the clothes to back away from the fake psychic. Shawn's grip wasn't secure though, so the clothes slipped to the ground. They both jumped to retrieve them knocking their heads together as they knelt down to pick them up. Lassiter scrambled back, hurriedly heading to the door.

"I…I'll be waiting outside. Get changed and then you can go get your things from my house. You can bring one change of clothes since you'll probably be staying the night anyway." Lassiter rushed out, fighting down his embarrassment.

Shawn stared down at the ground, heart racing. What the hell just happened? He wasn't sure. Being the way he was, he understood all about acting on impulse. He hardly ever though things through all the way. A rough plan was all he needed. But there was no plan there. No rough course he was following. No intended outcome.

So if he wasn't expecting something specific to happen, why was he disappointed? Why did it feel like something more should have happened? What was it about Lassiter's reaction that seemed so…unfulfilling?

… ..

Quite was a sure sign of something wrong. Lassiter knew that, but he was grateful for it anyway. The more he though about it, the more confused he was. He should have been annoyed. He should have refused the let Shawn back in his house. He could have returned his clothes tomorrow. He could still take him back after Shawn got his clothes.

It wasn't safe. He wasn't sure why, but everything in him insisted that he shouldn't have agreed to what he did. His gut was telling him that letting Shawn into his house was a huge mistake. He wasn't sure what was about to happen, but something fragile was teetering on his decision. But he was a man of his word, and he had promised to let Shawn stay.

He glanced over to his passenger seat, where Shawn remained silent. A closer look quickly told him his eyes were shut, his breathing not shallow enough to be sleeping. Shawn was thinking on something. He focused back on the road. Too often lately he had been taking his eyes off of the road in front of him to look at the young brunette.

It wasn't a long way to his house from Shawn's, made shorter by the light traffic. It was long enough though that Shawn's deep thinking had slipped into dreams. Lassiter looked the younger man over, pondering his next move. He could lock him in the car. The pajama clad psychic would be safe there. He immediately shot down the idea.

Shawn would wake up sometime in the night and break into his house. Plus, it would be cold enough out that his car might drop to an uncomfortable temperature. While he was tempted momentarily the let him suffer, Lassiter couldn't stand to think of the possible damage to his car from a sleepy, uncomfortable Shawn. Resigning himself to dealing with him, Lassiter threw the clothes over his arm and knelt by his car to get his arms under Shawn.

Gently, so as not to bump him into something, Lassie lifted him out of the car. Balancing the psychic in his arms, he locked his car door and headed up the drive. Shawn shifted in his arms, almost struggling with his fitful turns. Lassiter ignored the little spasm, easily getting them through the doorway and locking it behind them.

He moved towards the couch, intending to set Shawn down while he changed and put away their clothes. He never got that far as Shawn woke in his arms with a start, thrashing wildly and shouting with wild abandon. It was all Lassiter could do to keep from dropping the smaller man, Bearing him down to the ground to deal with the sudden alarm.

"Spencer! Calm down! Spencer! It's me!" He pinned the flailing psychic down, forcing him still.

Shawn's eyes focused blearily on him, his chest heaving up and down with heavy breaths. "L-lassie?"

"Are you okay?" Lassiter leaned back, letting him up.

"I…I'm fine." He insisted, letting his eyes fall shut.

They snapped back open instantly, green eyes filled with terror. Lassiter recognized that look. It was one he had worn often enough when memories of crime scenes were glued to the inside of his eyelids. Shawn was seeing things. Visions, memories, what ever he called them, they were bothering him. Terror was shining in Shawn's eyes and Lassiter jumped into action.

It was instinct, really. He had done the same when his partner had been devastated after her kidnapping. He wasn't very good at providing comfort, but Shawn didn't seem to register that. He was frozen, caught off guard by the strong arms around his waist and arms.

Lassiter was hugging him.

When Shawn didn't react, Lassiter moved one hand up to the back of his head, pushing him down against his shoulder. Shawn felt a smile tugging at his lips, as if Lassiter had to remind him what his shoulder was there for. He kept his eyes wide open, focused on the fabric of the shirt, rather than the images burned into his eyes. Lassiter's hand riffled through the younger detective's hair, soothing little motions against his scalp.

"Don't go." Shawn whispered, fisting his hands in Lassiter's shirt.

"I'm right here." Lassiter informed him, eyes staring blankly ahead.

… … .. .

**Gah. Shawn seems wimpy at the end of this chapter…I've got a good explanation for it though, which will be covered next chapter. Instead, focus on the touching moments and allow for the slight slip in characterization.**


	13. Chapter 13

…**Still not owning. **

… … .. .

Lassie groaned, shifting into a more comfortable position on the couch. Wearily, he checked his watch. He was late for work. Stifling his yawn, he glanced down at the weight on his chest. The situation was surprisingly less awkward than he would have imagined. Not that he would have imagined ever falling asleep on his couch with Shawn Spencer on top of him.

The night before, he had moved them both to the couch, removed his gun, and settled down for a long, awkward night. Half an hour later, Shawn was asleep against his chest. Tired, and not keen on picking the psychic up again after last time, he allowed himself to drift off to sleep, though half laying, half sitting on the couch, arms still around the psychic.

It was morning though and he had overslept. Lassiter's next move was to decide how he should go about waking Shawn up so he could get to work. Deciding work took precedent over kindness, he stood and turned in one swift motion, dumping Shawn onto the couch.

The abrupt motion woke him up and, on instinct, he clung to Lassie's shirt, dragging the detective down again. Lassiter frowned, leaning over the psychic as he braced himself on the couch.

"Lassiter?" Shawn yawned, blinking.

"Spencer." He greeted, pulling himself from Shawn's clutches.

Shawn watched him leaved the room in a sleepy daze before turning his attention to the clothes on the coffee table. His clothes. Right, Lassie said he could stay the night. The entirety of the night before came crashing back into his mind. Every detail flooded his mind: touches, words, sights. Dear god the sights.

His mind switched information to flood him with, drowning him in unwanted recollections of the crime scene. Scenarios from the perps point of view flashed through his mind, each one intimately detailed, showing every possibility he could conceive for what happened.

He felt hands on his shoulders, shaking him violently. Blue eyes were gazing at him intently, blatant fear in them. Shawn whimpered, burying his face in Lassiter's shoulder. He could hear him swearing rather creatively. Warm hands cupped his face and Lassiter was speaking again, forcing him to look at him.

"-hell is wrong with you?" The words finally permeated his haze.

"Too much." He whined. "Seeing too much at once."

"Christ Spencer. Does this happen often?"

"N-no."

"Are you going to be alright?" He pressed, not yet moving away from the fake psychic.

"Yeah. I should be fine for a while." Shawn insisted.

Shawn looked Lassiter over, realizing he was half changed into a fresh suit. The detective had come rushing out of his room without even buttoning his shirt. Shawn stood quickly, placing a hand on Lassie's arm to keep from falling.

"I'm going to go change." He mumbled, grabbing his clothes and heading to the guest room.

Lassiter followed him to the room, standing dumbly outside the door after Shawn closed it. His heart had stopped when he heard Shawn scream. Seeing the blank terror in his eyes had been the last nail in the coffin though. All the animosity he had built up for the man over the course of working with him was softened. All the sharp words he'd ever said seemed sharper in light of how devastated he was. Still was, even after all that time.

Shawn wasn't one of those people who hardened over time, and it made Lassie want to keep him from crime scenes for an entirely new reason. He buttoned his shirt, but didn't head back to his room for a jacket. Instead, he stood outside the door, waiting for Shawn.

Inside, Shawn sat with his head in his hands, horrified that he had let Lassie see that. He couldn't just tell him it was a common problem for someone like him to be overwhelmed with information. That would mean admitting what he was and, though Lassie might be too off guard at the moment to arrest him, it was bound to happen eventually.

He felt his face flush as the thought of Lassie being off guard. He certainly wouldn't have expected his first reaction be to hold onto him. There was no way Shawn was going to let that go, but how would he find out if that was normal for the detective? He couldn't call Victoria. That would be a gross breach of trust.

Who else would Lassiter be close enough to in order to see them in such dire straits?

"Spencer?" Lassiter called through the door, his voice tense. "We need to get to work."

When Shawn opened the door to the room, he was dressed in fresh clothes. His previous attire was bundled in his arms. Lassiter's blue eyes looked tired, relieved to see him alright.

"If…uh…you could drop me off at Psych…" He murmured, avoiding those eyes.

"It's fine. You can come back here tonight." Carlton whispered, looking away from Shawn.

"Oh. Thanks." Shawn tossed his clothes back into the room and followed Lassie back into the living room.

… ..

The entire bullpen was deathly silent as Lassiter walked in. No one could ever remember the Detective being late. With Shawn following close behind, obvious thoughts filled may officers' minds. The second Lassiter entered the Chief's office, with Shawn, words began to fly. Shawn watched through the window as people huddled close and glanced repeatedly at the door. So Jules and Gus weren't the only ones.

"Detective? What are you doing in here? And where were you?" Chief Vick stood, looking between them with interest.

"I took some personal time this morning." He lied, earning a sharp glance from Shawn. "Chief. I need to ask you for a favor."

"What?" She frowned.

"Take Spencer off the case."

"WHAT?" Shawn yelled, loud enough that the bullpen could hear him. "No!"

"Calm down Mr. Spencer!" Karen yelped. "Detective Lassiter you know I won't do that. No matter what accusations-"

"This isn't an accusation." Lassiter informed quietly. "I don't think Mr. Spencer is ready to go back into the field yet, not until he seeks professional help."

"Now Lassie," Shawn laughed uncomfortably. "What do I need professionals for when I have you?"

Lassiter fixed him with a serious look, ears only slightly red from the implication. "I can't handle this Spencer."

"Handle what? What is going on?" Vick rounded her desk, eyes darting between the two, looking for something she could recognize.

"Lassie's just nervous." Shawn piped up happily. "We're thinking about moving our relationship to the next step and he isn't sure he's ready for it."

Lassiter's mouth flew open to protest, but he was too shocked to speak. Vick reared back in surprise, eyes widening at the new information.

"Um…Well. If that's your concern…Detective, rest assured that your…ah…personal relationship should have no bearings on the cases you are assigned…" She blushed. "Just so long as it doesn't interfere."

"Spencer!" Lassiter finally ground out, "You are not going to make something up to get out of this! Wait what?"

Both detectives turned to Vick in surprise. She was cherry red, but returned to her desk as smoothly as possible. It was Shawn's turn to gawk openly at the turn of events. He wasn't so sure the chief wasn't messing with them. How else could she be so…prepared…for his saying something like that?

"If there's nothing else." Vick coughed lightly, her complexion returning to normal. "Then get back to work."

Neither said a word, staring openly at her, not sure if they should deny the current events, walk away, or continue with their previous conversation. A fourth option provided itself as Juliet rushed into the room.

"We've got a call of another murder. They think it might be related. There's a blue 'X' in paint on the door." She said quickly, eyes starting on Vick and falling on Shawn and Lassiter shortly after.

"Get going and Detective Lassiter? I'm not pulling Mr. Spencer from the case."

… ..

He had already known, when she said blue, that it was the twins. Seeing them like that was more than he could handle though. They were both in a state of half dress, clinging to each other for dear life. The blue paint smeared with blood against their necks, the marks from the pressurized gun were more obvious on their flesh than the time before.

The perp didn't just walk in on them holding each other. He had staged it and then killed them. So there was a message to their positions. A couple that wasn't married to each other. A pair of twins. This person obviously thought they shouldn't be as close as they were.

Shawn bolted from the room as soon as he saw it, the new information combining with the old to flood in new possibilities and arrangements of crime scenes. He could hear Lassiter shouting after him, but refused to look back into the room until the flow of thoughts died down. A new thought of what the crime scenes could mean turned his stomach on end.

He sputtered and coughed as the breakfast he and Lassie had stopped for forced itself back up. A strong arm wrapped around his stomach to provide support, a large hand rubbing soothing circles against the small of his back. Blood was pounding in his ears, drowning out what he recognized to be familiar sounds of comfort. The deep, familiar voice was welcome though as he forced his stomach to unclench.

Lassiter frowned down at the younger man, ignoring the fact that every officer on scene was staring. He glanced up and met the worried eyes of Burton Guster. O'Hara had mentioned calling him. This wasn't the best way for him to show up though.

"Shawn! Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah." Shawn grinned weakly at his best friend, pulling away from Lassiter.

"What did you see this time?" He growled, put off by Shawn's obvious discomfort.

Shawn glanced nervously about at the expectant, worried faces. Lassiter had intentionally put him in that spot. With the intent to force him to back down from the case?

Lassiter was a few seconds away from physically dragging Shawn from the crime scene. How had he never noticed Shawn falling apart? He knew he hadn't kept the worry from his voice. Juliet was watching him, a knowing look in her eyes. What she knew, he wasn't sure, because he didn't know himself. No matter how gruff he was though, he never wanted to see his partners hurt. Deny it all he wanted, Shawn was his partner now, in a way. Co-partner…whatever.

"It…it's staged. I…He walked in with a real gun…posed them…then shot." Shawn's green eyes were watering.

Lassiter swore, glancing back at the doorway, inclined to immediately look the scene back over. His eyes flicked back to Shawn a moment and then to Juliet.

"O'Hara. Make sure he doesn't get back inside. I don't want him vomiting all over my crime scene." Lassiter stormed back into the building to look the room over again.

Juliet nodded, hurrying over to Shawn's side, to see if he was alright. Lassiter's voice was in direct competition with his orders. Gus had taken over for Lassie, offering words of comfort. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Shawn? Is everything alright?"

"Did he hug you?" Shawn croaked out, earning confused looks from both of his companions. "When…he saved you from Yin…did Lassiter hug you?"

Juliet felt an uncomfortable clenching in her chest at the reminder. The fear of hanging from the clock tower. The unreasonable terror she felt even once she was safe. Her partner's arms around her shoulders in a grating show of concern. The abrupt tenderness he applied to their working relationship.

"Yes." She admitted awkwardly.

Shawn started laughing nervously, which slowly eased into a genuine laugh. "Who'd have figure Lassie for the huggy type?"

"Is there something wrong?" Gus frowned, glancing at Jules for affirmation that something weird was happening.

"I freaked out last night Gus." Shawn admitted, heading for the blueberry. "I should get some things from my place. Put them in the Psych office."

"Freaked out how?" Juliet called after him.

"Ask Lassie." Shawn replied, settling himself in to go. "He stayed with me the entire time."

As they drove off, Shawn didn't catch the same delight in her eyes as the day before. It was nice to know some worries were more important than whatever other things she had going on. Not that he wanted her to worry.

… ..

"Shawn. Get out from under your desk." Gus growled, dragging on his friends ankle in an attempt to remove him.

"Gus. Don't be the shark from Happy Days. Being under my desk doesn't hurt anything."

"Lassiter is at work." Gus huffed, joining him under the desk. "You don't have to hide from him."

"I'm not hiding from him." Shawn insisted. "I'm thinking about what to do next."

"What happened?"

"I had a dream. When I woke up, I was in Lassie's house and he had me pinned to the ground so I wouldn't thrash. He…stayed with me all night." Shawn flushed, embarrassed.

"Hugging you?"

"Er…Yeah. And he said he want's me to spend the night again."

Gus stared at him incredulously. "No. He didn't. There is no way."

"He did." Shawn insisted. "Awkwardly avoiding eye contact and everything."

"No. No. No. This isn't happening." Gus tried to leave the desk, only for Shawn the yank him back down forcefully. "This doesn't happen in really life."

"What doesn't happen? Does this have to do with what everyone at the precinct is acting so weird about?" Shawn's eyes widened as he shifted to block the exit from the desk. "Gus you can't keep this from me forever."

"No. Shawn. It's creepy."

"Then I should know." Shawn insisted, fixing him with a stern puppy dog look.

Gus whined, looking away a moment before sighing and glancing back. "Buzz told Juliet you and Lassie make each other happy and Juliet told Chief Vick and now everyone at the precinct thinks you two are…together. Or should be anyway."

If nothing else, the horrified look on Shawn's face was worth the embarrassment of telling him.

… ..

"Well did they say where their relationship was anyway?" Jules whispered, ensuring no one outside of the room would hear her.

"No. But Carlton was worried about it effecting their job performance." Vick replied, glancing out the window at where said detective toiled away on the case.

"He and Shawn spent the night together." Juliet's tone darkened. "Shawn had some kind of psychic episode and Carlton spent the night with him. That's all I could get out of either of them though."

"I heard something happened at the crime scene." Vick met her worried eyes.

"Shawn ran out of the room and vomited. Lassiter followed him." She blushed a little. "It was kind of cute how worried he looked."

Vick smiled lightly, blushing herself. "I can't believe they're getting so close. I figured it would have taken much longer."

"I know." Juliet squeaked. "And Shawn was even wearing his clothes yesterday."

Both women squealed to themselves, delighted that the two were closer than a week before.

In the bull pen, Lassiter was ignoring the snippets of conversations he could catch. After what happened at the crime scene, he wasn't surprised to hear his and Spencer's names uttered in the same sentence. He wasn't going to actively pursue the topic of said conversations though. It seemed obvious enough.

He tossed the file he was pouring over back onto his desk and leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face. He had been looking for signs confirming what Shawn had said about the crime scenes ever since returning to the precinct. To his chagrin, his mind was anywhere but the case. Instead, it was focused on a certain brunette. He shifted in his seat, frowning as he once again tried to focus on his work.

He felt an uncomfortable burn across his spine whenever he thought of the psychic. He couldn't pinpoint the sensation as anything recognizable, but it seemed familiar. Lassiter hissed, rubbing his eyes again, finding focus impossible. All he could see was those hazel-green eyes filled with pain he didn't know how to heal. He chewed his lip momentarily, looking down at the file and making a quick decision.

As he tossed it into his desk and started for the chief's office, he felt a little flutter in his chest. The first time in years he was leaving work early…and he was playing hooky to go see Spencer.

… ..

"I told you that you didn't want to know." Gus sighed, rolling his eyes as Shawn continued to lay curled around himself on top of his desk.

"Gus. Do you realize what this means?"

"That everyone thinks you want Lassiter?"

"NOT THAT!" Shawn yelped, sitting up straight. "I mean Jules! She's refusing my advances because she thinks me and Lassie are an item. If I can convince her otherwise then I might have a chance!"

Gus groaned, burying his face in his hands. "So not Shawn. Besides. You have more important things to worry about."

"Like what?" Shawn huffed. "I always get it all worked out."

"And how do you intend to work out your little episodes? And Lassiter seeing them?" Gus quirked an eyebrow.

Shawn's eyes widened. "Crap. I need brain bleach Gus. Gotta wipe everything clean."

"Do you have time for that? We're on a case."

"Gus." Shawn fixed him with a flat look. "I threw up at a crime scene. That's your thing."

"Okay." Gus sighed. "What do you want to watch this time?"

"Twin Peaks?"

Gus gave him a disgusted look. "That'd do it."

"And pineapple ice cream?" He looked at him hopefully.

Gus fixed him with a disparaging look, but got up all the same. Shawn was already on his laptop, pulling up episodes to turn his brain into indefinable mush and put it back together in better shape. Grabbing his keys, Gus headed out with a promise to return with ice cream.

Even as he left, he could hear Shawn reciting the lines from memory.

… ..

Lassiter tapped his hands impatiently on the steering wheels, eyes glaring pointedly at the red light. Why was everything working against him? He had only stopped blushing recently, the only thing he could thank the lights for. He had forgotten about that morning's talk with the chief, so the unusual look she gave him when he said he needed to leave early had caught him off guard.

Instead of forcibly denying anything going on or setting the record straight, like he should, he flushed at the memory and all but ran out. He wasn't skilled with handling these things. Once he was sure Spencer was fine, he'd force him to rectify the situation. It didn't help though that she was right about why he was leaving.

Carlton groaned, once again driving. Shawn was a terrible influence on him. First he showed up to work late. Then he left early. And on the same day no less. All because of that damn psychic. When he pulled up outside of Psych, he found himself frowning. Gus's car wasn't there. Did that mean Shawn wasn't? He climbed out of his car though and headed to the door.

He could hear the distinct sounds of some show playing inside. So Spencer was in there. He considered knocking, but didn't think he'd be heard over the screams. He opened the door and was met with another distinct point. Shawn was saying something. Listening closer, he could hear it was the same as the words being played.

Carlton smirked as he rounded the corner to the office, hefting the pineapple he had stopped to buy into a clear view. Shawn was engrossed with his laptop, oblivious to his intruder.

"What are you watching?"

Shawn looked up with a start, spotting the detective leaning familiarly against the door frame. The fruit of gods present in his hands was a pleasant surprise though. He sprang up from his seat, a gleeful look splitting his face with a grin. Gus had texted him an hour prior, informing him he was having difficulty finding the ice cream and would be back as soon as possible. Now he was being offered pineapple anyway. Vegging in front of the computer had helped him take his mind off of the work and reset.

He found himself walking across the room before he processed what he was doing. Lassiter was smirking at him, his default confident look well in place.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Shawn all but purred, forcing himself not to eye the pineapple.

"Can't I just check up on you?" Lassiter's look faltered, uncertainty at the sudden lack of distance.

"Ditching work to give me a pineapple Lassie?"

"Checking up on you." Lassiter insisted. "You really got to me this morning."

Shawn cursed to himself, remembering his previous discussion with Gus. Moving back to his desk, he slammed his laptop shut. Lassiter followed him into the room, moving to put the pineapple on Shawn's desk. When Shawn spun around to explain, he crashed into the detective, who barely kept hold of both the pineapple and the psychic.

Shawn inhaled sharply, instantly remembering what Gus said. He could smell Lassiter's cologne, mixed with gun powder and pineapple. The last was probably actually from the fruit perched against his waist, where Lassiter's hands had fallen when they ran into each other. His hands were flush against the detective's chest, the desk pressing into his back.

Lassiter's brain seemed to all but shut down, forcing him to move through his actions one at a time. He placed the pineapple on the desk behind Shawn, then returned his hand to the other's hip a moment to consider what to do next. The furious red that sprang to the psychic's face at that action reminded him why he shouldn't have done it.

Shawn tried to laugh it off, tugging gently, so as not to give the wrong impression, on Lassiter's lapels.

"Don't tell me you're falling for me Lassie-kins."

"Spencer." He growled, using his hands to push Shawn further against the desk, and away from him.

It didn't work as well as planned with Shawn's hands on his shirt front. Instead, they both moved closer to the desk and, by way of the impossibility for the psychic to occupy the same space as it, closer to each other. Shawn's eyes widened and he unclenched his hands, searching the sterling eyes above him for any sign of aggression.

Lassiter seemed just as aware of the uncomfortable position they were in and quickly attempted to remedy it. By placing his hands on Shawn's desk. He flushed as he realized he had effectively pinned Shawn in place, which had not been his intent. The sound of something crashing to the ground wrenched them from their confused position and the two instantly separated, spinning around to find an equally flustered Gus and an abandoned tub of pineapple ice cream leaking on the floor.

"I can explain!"

… … .. .

**That was awkward…It's finally reached the point where I can have the other side, the (mis?)interpretations of their relationship, be involved. Shawn being Shawn, his knowing can only make this better, trust me.**


	14. Chapter 14

…**Still not owning. **

**Just got over a cold, so hopefully this is marginally better than it would be if I hadn't waited. I don't know how people can be creative for a living…**

**Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, it's amazing to see so many.**

… … .. . .. … …

"This totally isn't what it looks like Gus." Shawn yelped, jumping to catch his friend who was scrambling to leave.

"You could have just told me." Gus hissed. "I wouldn't have told anyone."

"We weren't doing anything Mr. Guster." Lassiter growled. "There's nothing to tell."

"Oh yeah?" Gus glared back at him. "And just how do you explain how I found you two?"

"Oh come on Gus." Shawn threw his hands up exasperated. "You know this will only end up sounding completely fake or end up making it sound worse."

"You said you could explain." Gus crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Shawn gaped, glancing back at Lassie, who shrugged. He had said that, on impulse admittedly, but it stood. Tentatively, he retold the occurrences, drawing quick, accurate conclusions on Lassiter's motivation. He'd have been impressed, if the whole damn thing didn't sound so utterly stupid.

"Not only did that sound worse, but it also sounded like complete bull." Gus informed him.

"That has to be some kind of new record." Shawn admitted, shrugging with ease.

"I can't believe you actually ditched work to give him a pineapple." Gus started laughing, eyeing Lassiter with amusement.

"I thought you just said it sounded made up." Lassiter didn't look near as amused.

"Would I really make something up that made it sound less innocent than it really was?" Shawn asked innocently, fluttering his pretty green eyes at the pair.

"Yes." They responded in chorus.

"Which is why I know he didn't." Gus added. "It's just how we work."

"That reminds me." Lassiter snarled, swiveling around to bear down on Shawn, teeth clenched and jaw squared. "You need to talk to the Chief and clear up that little stunt you pulled this morning."

Shawn's eyes widened and he glanced over at Gus, who looked decidedly interested. Glancing back at Lassiter, he shrunk down, offering his best apologetic grin.

"I didn't think she would take me seriously."

"What did you do Shawn?"

"Well she did." Lassiter informed him tensely.

"Seriously? I thought she was joking with us." Shawn frowned, then his eyes snapped wide. "Oh."

"Oh what? Shawn?" Gus was glancing quickly between them.

Shawn glanced sheepishly over at him. "I…uh…told her we were getting into a serious relationship."

"Shawn." Gus whined, dragging his name out in exasperation. "Why would you do that?"

"At the time I didn't know…" Shawn glanced sharply at Lassie, who suddenly looked very interested in what he was about to say. "…that she would take us seriously."

"You." Lassiter corrected, eyebrows furrowed at the obvious pause.

"Your ice cream is ruined." Gus interrupted, diverting all attention easily to the mess on the floor.

"Drat." Shaw huffed. "But I still got a pineapple out of it."

He quickly retrieved the one from his desk, pushing it into Gus' arms. At the quirked eyebrow he rolled his eyes, pushing him toward the kitchen. Gus dug his heels in though, glaring pointedly.

"I'm not cooking this for you Shawn. Do it yourself."

"B-but Gus." Shawn whined, pouting and quivering his lip. "I'm still reorganizing and I need pineapple."

Gus sighed, throwing a hand up in defeat. The one not holding pineapple. Lassiter watched briefly as Gus retrieved an astonishing amount of cooking supplies and set about making something he didn't care to linger on. The sounds started up from Shawn's laptop again and Lassiter soon found himself leaning against the psychic's chair, watching mind numbing television. He was too absorbed to notice when Gus joined them, or left to the kitchen again.

He did take notice when a plate was thrust into is hands. Shawn was looking up at him expectantly, fork of whatever it was already in his mouth. Gus was watching him closely as well, his own plate of the material in hand, a fork of it slowly inching towards his mouth.

"What is this?" Lassiter asked coolly.

"Baked pineapple pudding." Gus offered, finally biting into his, as if he hadn't wanted to be caught by the question with his mouth full.

"I don't like sweets."

"It's pineapple." Shawn pouted. "If you're going to be a part of the process you must partake of pineapple."

Lassiter shuffled awkwardly, staring at the pudding with distrust. A large part of him insisted he did not want pineapple. It agreed quite vehemently with the part of him that simply refused to give Spencer anything he wanted. That hopeful face looking up at him though was increasingly persuasive. He wasn't entirely sure what this was all about, but Shawn looked like he desperately needed it.

Grudgingly, he slid his fork into the lightly jiggling material and scooped it up to his mouth, pausing only for a second before stuffing it in. It was sweet, and a little mushy. Shawn couldn't keep the grateful look from his eyes, though, so Lassiter kept his contempt for the dessert from his.

"It's sweet." He offered flatly, setting the plate down on the desk.

Shawn beamed, turning the episodes back on and returning his full attention to the screen. Half way through the next episode, Shawn swiped Lassiter's forgotten pudding and was decidedly ignored.

… .. .

Shawn yawned, closing his computer down and stretching. Lassiter stood from Gus' chair, cracking the bones in his neck with practiced ease. Shawn glanced around in surprise, ducking his head under his desk before sitting back up with a pout. Lassie almost had it in him to look amused.

"Where's Gus?"

"He left four hours ago. He also instructed me to keep an eye on you Spencer." Now he was amused.

"Oh." He rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "I guess I zoned out more than I thought."

Lassiter fixed him with a stern look, turning the chairs so they faced each other fully. "Are you finally going to tell me what's going on?"

Shawn fidgeted, avoiding the firm blue eyes. "I'm good now. The shows let me zone out and organize everything so I don't have to see it."

"You're compartmentalizing."

"So?" He sounded a little petulant. "Is that such a bad thing?"

Lassiter looked thoughtful a moment. "I suppose not."

Shawn sighed meeting Lassie's eyes finally. "I'm good. This usually takes a month or two to build up and I can knock it out in one day. It's worst when I have paperwork and you know how often I don't do that."

Carlton jerked back with surprise, some thought dancing through his eyes. "The paperwork is a problem?"

Shawn grinned sheepishly. "Reliving it telling people is one thing. Typing it is another entirely. I think it has to do with that whole "writing helps you remember" thing."

"Then I'll do it."

"What?" Shawn yelped, nearly jumping from his chair if the effect wouldn't have made him knee Lassiter in the jaw.

"I may be as good a detective as you give me credit-" Lassiter sighed.

"I never said you were a bad detective." Shawn interrupted.

"…but I'm a better police officer than you give me credit for. I can handle the bureaucratic mess better than most people. I'll take care of your paperwork." Lassie's face was stone cold, the pinched look when he set everything firm and then scrunched his whole face ever so slightly towards his nose.

"Y-you would do that for me?" Shawn's voice broke, airy and confused. "Why?"

"As long as I'm head detective, you're one of mine. As an officer, it would be negligent of me to let you run at anything but optimum, even if that means doing your paperwork. Besides…" Lassiter paused, look softening into something akin to a smile. "As your colleague, it would be damn near criminal of me to know you were suffering and not lend you a shoulder."

For one of the few times in his life, Shawn was grateful for his eidetic memory.

He would always remember the first time he went fishing with his dad, when he was so excited and could do no wrong. He would always remember the day he and Gus first met, and promised to never truly leave each other. He would always remember the way his father cradled him against his chest as they waited for an ambulance, promising to never let him be in so much danger again. He would always remember the way he curled around a pillow and cried for hours, so far from home and missing everyone in it. He would always remember the first time he truly realized his father was proud of him and wanted him to succeed at anything he wanted, even if it was a foolish detective agency.

And now he would always remember the look on Lassiter's face when he said those words and silently drew him into a hug, reserved only for those for whom he held the deepest of respect and would trust his life to.

His partners.

And he would always remember Lassiter embarrassedly telling him to never say a word about it.

And he wouldn't.

… .. .

Shortly after leaving Shawn in Lassiter's care, Gus stepped into the precinct. He knew exactly where he was headed and made a rather unbecoming gesture across the bull pen to incline Juliet to follow. He waited for her to enter the chief's office before slamming the door shut, not caring how many people turned to look. Both women waited patiently, having never seen the young man so angry.

"I'm tired of this." He sneered. "I'm tired of you two putting your own damn agendas first and forgetting there are people on the other end."

"Excuse me Mr. Guster?" Vick stood, eyes snapping, furious at his accusation.

"You've gone and convinced yourself that you're helping. You smile and take unhealthy pride in this stupid arrangement because somehow you feel vindicated. If Shawn and Lassiter do end up together you'll pat yourself on the back and tell yourself "well done" because you think you've accomplished something. What is that? Thrusting two broken people at each other? Trying to truss up someone's painful history with a replacement so you don't have to deal with his prior emotional fallout?" He was panting with rage, dark eyes leveled on her.

"I don't know what you're accusing me of but-"

"No. You know exactly what I'm saying. Everyone knows the pain he went through during his divorce. You just think that maybe if Shawn could somehow fill that gap, specifically, then Lassie will just be some happy little drone that might be easier to work with. You're not doing this because you're his friend, or because you honestly think it's best for him. You just want to reap the benefits if you can find any."

"Mr. Guster!" She snapped. "I don't like your insinuations. I wouldn't take an interest if I didn't think it was for the best as both their friend and colleague."

"That's a lie and we both know it. And it's none of your business as their 'colleague'. I don't even know why you're involved. Maybe you just got caught up in Jules' craze and started rationalizing it on the way."

"Hey!" Juliet screeched. "Just what are you saying about me?"

Gus rounded on her, eyes cold and distant. "I'm saying the only reason you are fucking with Shawn's life is because you feel guilty. You honestly feel bad that the two of you didn't work out so you've convinced yourself these two are made for each other and that you're happy with that. You think if you show enough enthusiasm and seem happy enough it'll be true and you can actually support the idea. Not once did you consider that they could be better friends than anything else or that maybe the strange little friendship they had going for them could actually work. Pushing them like this isn't likely to make them some happy couple, it's likely to break their friendship."

"I would never do that to Shawn. And they are closer now."

"Yeah. Maybe. So? You could have hurt them both. I already know this arrangement has hurt Shawn and probably left some pretty huge gaps between the two. Maybe they can dance around them and find an new happy median, but neither of them should have had to."

The women exchanged looks, frowning. There he went again with those suspicious words about Shawn. If something was actually wrong with the psychic, why did he keep dropping hints without actually saying anything?

"I don't want to hurt either one of them." Juliet said firmly. "Maybe it is a bit selfish of me to want them both to be happy, and maybe I am being a little too enthusiastic about it, but I really only have the best of intentions."

"Mr. Guster." Vick said solemnly, her voice soft. "I believe I understand your concern. Let me tell you now that there will be no more discussions of their personal life. Not only is it inappropriate for the work place, but it is their own concern."

Gus nodded, a wave of relief washing over him. "I'm sorry I got so upset. It's just…I've seen people try and manipulate Shawn and force him into something. Usually he runs. If you push too hard, if he gets too close, both him and Lassie could get hurt. Give them time and they might just find a solution on their own."

"That was quite the impressive speech." Vick admitted, smiling slightly.

"I usually use them on Shawn when no one else is around." He admitted, "And they're usually not so long."

"Now that we've established we're going to just sit back and watch, care to tell us what's wrong with Shawn?" Jules let concern dominate her features, though a touch of shame still flooded her eyes.

"I can't." Gus admitted.

"Is there anything I should be worried about?" Vick frowned.

"No. There isn't." Gus shrugged, tired from his outburst and ready to leave.

They let him do so, separating to finish their own work and analyze their behavior over the last week. As strange as it was to be yelled at by Gus, there was a touch of truth to his words. Yawning as he made his way home, Gus promised not to use his angry out burst for sometime after that incident. It took too much out of him. He'd go way overboard, but seeing the incident between Shawn and Lassie that afternoon had pushed him over the edge.

Shawn needed Lassie to be part of the solution now because he had been made aware of the problem. And Shawn desperately hated his own weaknesses. Lassiter, on the other hand, was an emotional baggage claim. Beneath that tough exterior was the kind of man who became a cop to do good, not to tazer old ladies and pepper spray squirrels. Shawn didn't want to unload his baggage because it made him feel vulnerable and that only made for more baggage. Lassiter couldn't help but try and pick that baggage up. Not when he knew there was real pain behind it.

… .. .

"I'm not carrying you into my house a second time. Get up." Lassiter growled, pushing Shawn out of his car.

"Nng. I'm getting up." Shawn complained, dragging himself towards the door. "Come unlock the door."

Lassiter obliged, opening the front door and holding it open to allow Shawn in. He flicked the light on as he followed, locking the door behind him. Shawn was listing side to side, tottering down the hall towards the guest room. Lassiter sighed, shrugging out of his guns and heading to his own room to change. It had been a long night.

Shawn grumbled and huffed a bit as he headed back into the kitchen, now clad in pajamas. If he could just get his brain to process he needed to stand up straight, he could reach that glass. He squeaked in alarm as he nearly toppled over the glasses.

"What are you doing?" Lassiter strode into the kitchen, wearing only jeans, arms folded across his chest.

"Ah. Trying to get a glass of water."

"It helps if you aren't trying to fall asleep on the counter at the same time." Lassiter informed him, easily plucking a glass from the cabinet.

"Thank you Lassie." Shawn murmured, reaching for the glass.

Instead of handing it over, Lassiter filled it himself and started down the hall. Shawn trailed after him, curious, whimpering the entire way in the hopes of getting attention. Lassiter simply set the glass of water on Shawn's nightstand and quietly left. Shawn glanced between it and the retreating form, frown slowly growing. Turning on his heel, he marched as best he could out of the room and down the hall to Lassie's room.

He was caught off guard by a flying T-shirt. When he finally got it detangled from his face, he accepted the jeans and belt Lassiter offered him, grinning childishly.

"I really should stop stealing your clothes."

"I'm not letting you walk around my house naked." Lassiter informed him tensely, but Shawn caught his joking tone.

Shawn waggled his eyebrows, grinning like a little maniac. "Just going to confine me to a room in that case?"

"If you even think about it I will get my gun and handcuff you to…" Lassiter's threatening tone trailed off when he realized what he was saying.

Shawn's peals of laughter were met with embarrassed silence. Lassiter could feel the dark blush staining his cheeks as he shook his head, looking down at the ground. Shawn's laughs broke off when Lassie threw and arm around his shoulder and he started to roughly drag him out of the room. He didn't stop smiling, though, even when he was thrown back into his room and nearly slammed his head into the bed stumbling over himself. He dropped the clothes in a messy pile and turned back to Lassie, who was standing in the doorway.

"Night Lassie." Shawn mumbled, climbing up into his bed.

Carlton flicked the light off. "Good night Spencer."

With that he closed the door and headed down the hall. The next day was bound to be a flurry of motion. He'd already instructed police officers to bring in all of the other participants, Shawn having phoned in with a 'vision' of their addresses shortly after leaving that morning. He'd have to get up early in order to inform the Chief of their connection to the case. Hopefully that wouldn't end in disaster.

… … .. . .. … …

**Sorry for Gus and the girls being so out of character. It was necessary for the story to progress. The next chapter should be more interesting, and less out of character.**


	15. Chapter 15

…**Still not owning. **

**I wasn't really satisfied just leaving the last chapter like that so…yeah.**

**Plot shall invade.**

… … .. . .. … …

Lassiter had learned something very interesting over the last week. Waking up with another person in his house was unusual. It was almost like he could feel someone else was in the house. Paranoia dictated he wanted to know exactly where they were and what they were doing.

That was the reason he was leaning on the door frame to Shawn's room, watching him sleep.

Shawn was curled around himself, hugging his pillow tightly, half hanging off the bed. Lassie smiled in spite himself, at both his unusual sleeping position and the fact that he looked to be peaceful. He glanced over at the alarm clock next to the bed and frowned. Had he really been standing there five minutes? Throwing one last glance at Shawn to ensure he was, in fact, sleeping soundly, he headed back into the hall and off to get ready for the day.

When he was clean, dressed, and armed, he ducked back in to see Shawn still resoundingly asleep. With a quick decision that Shawn needed the rest, he left for the precinct. Shawn could call Gus for a ride later if he really wanted to leave. He had already placed a spare key on the nightstand so Shawn could lock the door when he left.

… .. .

"Detective Lassiter!" Buzz hurried forth, proffering the cup of coffee as a deterrent for any anger he might receive today. "All of the people Shawn mentioned are in interrogation or the waiting rooms. Officers are keeping an eye on them so they don't speak about anything suspicious. The only one missing is the proprietor for the paintball shop."

"Good. I'll be down in a second." Lassiter waved him off, looking over his papers again. "Oh. And McNab?"

Buzz paused from where he had turned to go, eyes wide. Lassiter looked up at him, blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"When did you start putting less cream in my coffee?" He practically growled the question.

"Er…well…Shawn said-" Lassiter raised his hand to interrupt him.

"Fine." He actually rolled his eyes. "He doesn't like cream in his coffee so he doesn't want any in mine. Tell him to stop changing my drink order and buy his own damn coffee. And I've seen him trying to get you to put pineapple juice in it. Do it and I shoot you."

"Yes sir." McNab fought down a smile.

Lassiter was almost back to usual. Almost. He was just a little too nice in the way he threatened him to be completely normal.

Buzz left as Lassiter returned to his work, but not before catching the small smile. Lassie would never admit to liking sweet things, smiling at Shawn's antics, or caring about the majority of his coworkers. Buzz knew though, and he had a suspicion Shawn did too.

Lassiter shut the files he was reading, placed them in his desk, and headed to interrogation. After a long discussion with the Chief on why there was nothing wrong with his participation in the case, she agreed to let him handle interrogations. He pulled the door to one interrogation room open and froze. Shawn was sitting inside with a pair of young men who had been rookies on the field. They were both wiping tears of laugher from their eyes as Shawn turned to beam up at him.

"How did you even get in here?" He growled, yanking Shawn's chair from under him.

Shawn sprang up in the same motion smirking. "I came in a little while ago. You didn't notice me waving at you?"

"I shouldn't be surprised." Lassiter's eyes darted to the pair of amused men. "You did change my coffee order again."

The pair burst out laughing again, much to Lassiter's annoyance. He firmly gripped Shawn's bicep and pulled him towards the door, telling the pair they would be back in a second. Outside, he threw Shawn rather gently at the wall.

"I figured you'd like your coffee like that."

"What'd you get out of them?"

The both paused, having spoken at the same time. Shawn furrowed his brow, as if that had been the last question he would have expected. Lassiter looked surprised, taken aback even at Shawn's statement.

"You honestly though this was about my coffee?"

"No." Shawn offered sheepishly. "And not much. They're college buddies, just got into paintball, not particularly suspicious. I didn't notice…er…feel anything off about them."

"Isn't there a rule against talking about your feelings?" Lassiter asked dryly. "I'm going to go back in there and talk to them, watch through the glass incase you catch something."

"Wait. You're asking for my help?"

"I'd rather know where you are than worry about you skipping off to some other interrogation room."

"I don't skip!" Shawn shouted as Lassie walked back in.

… .. .

The two college boys had turned out to be exactly what Shawn said. Innocent. Grossly, incompetently so.

He and Shawn were standing in the viewing room outside their next set to interrogate. The pair in purple. The young man was shouting in anger, pounding on the glass and door, demanding to know why they were there. Insisting they be let out. His wife sat idly by, telling him to calm down. Lassiter calmly pulled the door open, ignoring the fact that Shawn followed him in.

"It's about time somebody got in here. What the hell is going on?"

"I'm head detective Carlton Lassiter." Lassie informed him tensely, gesturing to the chairs around the table

"I'm Shawn Spencer, psychic detective." Shawn added chipperly, nodding politely to the man's wife.

"I said you could listen, not talk." Lassiter growled, pushing Shawn into a chair before taking one of his own.

The man sat edgily, coiled to spring out of his seat at the slightest provocation. "What's going on?" He repeated.

"We have a few questions for you. Where have you both been the last two days?"

"At the hospital, and work. We just found out I'm pregnant." His wife smiled softly, ghosting her hand over her stomach.

"Congratulations." Shawn piped up.

"What does it matter to you?"

"I'm the one asking the questions here."

"Someone may be trying to kill the people who were present at the competition you participated in the other day."

Everyone wiped their head around to look at Shawn, suddenly very quiet. Lassiter balled his hands to keep his frustration in check. Shawn was just trying to help. Getting angry would look bad in front of the suspects. Shawn caught the dark, disparaging look though and shrugged. Lassie's glares were getting less and less scary. The pair had clasped hands, the woman covering her mouth in shock, the man gripping the table tightly.

"And you think we may be in danger?"

"Yes." Shawn said quickly, glancing purposefully at Lassiter.

This gave them a way to discuss the case and gauge their reactions. Lassiter shook his head softly, still disliking the idea. The door pulled open and they swiveled to see Juliet standing in the door way.

"The last of the people finally arrived." She said professionally, though her eyes were glued on Shawn.

"Alright." Carlton frowned, eyeing the pair. "I should-"

"Let someone else handle this." Shawn said quickly. "I'm sure routine information about their lives and what they've been up to can be handled by someone else."

Lassiter and Jules bother looked at him in surprise, but Carlton slowly rose from his chair and nodded.

"Another officer will be here shortly to rule you out as suspects and see what we can due to ensure your safety." Lassiter called back over his shoulder.

Out in the hall, Gus was waiting patiently as though he had expected Shawn to be in that room. With the door closed, Lassiter crossed his arms, eyes narrowed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I don't really want you interrogating him." Shawn admitted with a shrug.

Lassiter sputtered. "Excuse me? I'll remind you I'm a trained detective. If you think I can't handle an interrogation-"

"It's not that." Shawn interrupted. "He's obviously hostile towards you. He knew you had them there as suspects but didn't say it for his wife's sake. He was also about ten second's away from slugging you."

"I would arrest him for assaulting a police officer."

"What makes you think anyone wants you getting hit anyway?"

Jules coughed, getting both of their attentions. "Chief wants to speak to you Shawn. And Carlton? We should go speak to the next set of people."

"Okay. Hey Gus. Why are you still here?" Shawn started back to proper way, waving good bye to the officers.

"I was answering a few questions about the times I've been to those competitions with you. I have to get to work now though so be good. I'll catch you later." Gus informed him, eyeing the exit before nodding to Shawn.

"Cool, cool. Hey Gus?"

"What?"

"Why do you think he gave me a key?"

"Because he was tired of you breaking in? Or didn't want you leaving his house unlocked when you left?"

"He knows I can lock it without a key."

"Then maybe because you're a guest right now?"

"Gus…"

"Shawn." Gus fixed him with a stern look. "Can you honestly tell me you would be reading anything into this if it weren't for Buzz?"

"No…" Shawn admitted awkwardly.

"See? Quit thinking about it. Go talk to the Chief."

"Thanks Gus. I'll see you later."

"No problem, oh and nice shirt."

Shawn flushed, plucking at the police academy shirt Lassiter had lent him. Like most things of Lassie's it was too big for him, practically dangling off his shoulders. He had been a little self-conscious walking into the precinct in something he would obviously never own that was too big for him. Especially something that was so clearly Lassiter's. He'd gotten caught wearing the detective's cloths once, but that was before he knew what people thought when he did it.

He headed into the Chief's office without so much as a knock, twisting with a flourish and announcing his presence in an obnoxiously loud voice. She looked up at him in mild surprise, frowning slightly when she noticed his shirt.

"Mr. Spencer." She said calmly. "I was wondering if you could tell me why you were keeping your personal involvement in this case secret."

"Lassie told you?" He barely kept from yelping.

"He did the right thing. You really should learn procedure."

"I didn't want taken off the case, and Lassie was so enthusiastic about it…" Shawn tried grinning.

"You two could be in danger too. Next time something like this happens you tell me."

"Sure thing Vick." He smiled. "By the way I wanted to apologies for yesterday. I shouldn't have said that about me and Lassie."

"You're right." Vick tried to keep her surprise from her voice. "It was extremely inappropriate. You're relationship has no business in the work place."

Shawn jumped in place. "No no, no. That's not what I meant. I mean that we're-"

"Spencer." She shook her head, cutting him off. "I don't want to know."

"But-"

"Not another word. This isn't appropriate discussion for work."

"Chief-"

"Leave. Spencer. We're done."

"Why did you even call me in here?" He said in one breath, before she could interrupt.

"To let you know I knew, so you would focus on the actual work and not keeping something from me." She smirked firmly at him, clearly implying he was dismissed.

… .. .

"That man is creepy." Juliet confirmed Lassiter's previous observations about the proprietor. "And I really don't think he likes you."

"I don't do this job to be liked O'Hara."

"Clearly." She rolled her eyes looking down at the folder in her hands.

Aside from creepy, there wasn't much they could get from him. He was quiet and insisted he was home, alone, at any time they asked his whereabouts. Even when they could verify he was at work. It didn't look good, but they couldn't really find anything against him during the interrogation.

A shout of alarm down the hall caught their attention and they bolted to the interrogation room they had previously been in. The man and woman who had been in there before were just leaving and, by poor timing on the part of a rookie, ran into the next pair to go in. Lassie dully recognized them as the last rookies to go down. The taller of the pair was snarling at the married man, pushing him for having gotten in his way.

The woman was hollering at them to stop their fight and the shorter man was tugging on his partner's arm telling him to cool off. Shawn was pushing between the pair, with the rookie standing off to the side looking very pale.

"Everybody stop!" Lassiter hollered, earning enough of a pause for Shawn to put himself between the two men.

"You stay out of my way!" The tall man leaned over Shawn, pointing angrily at the married couple.

"Crazy asshole!" The man hollered, tucking his wife behind him as he headed away. "Don't let me catch sight of you again!"

"Disgusting bastard." The man hissed, then glanced down at Shawn who was still decidedly close to him. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Shawn Spencer. Psychic detective." He offered with a charming grin.

The man's eyes darkened and his partner quickly yanked Shawn back from his personal space. "You'll excuse him if he's a skeptic."

"Get in the room." Lassiter growled before rounding on the rookie. "Why are you still here? Go deal with those two who just left. Now!"

The man scuttled off, looking frightened and relieved all at once. Lassiter spun on his heel to watch Shawn disappear into the room with the two men and Jules, rattling off some 'vision' to impress them. Following them in, Lassie slammed the door shut.

"I'm impressed, head detective Lassiter." The tall man sneered. "Someone needs to put these dogs in their place."

"You're no exception." Lassiter growled, pushing the man's feet off the table. "Where were you the past two days?"

"Why? Did I do something?"

"We're just trying to rule it out." Juliet insisted.

"I've been in meetings all week." The shorter man offered, ignoring his partner's glare.

Shawn watched the man's eyes. His gaze was steady, but nervous. There were slight ink stains in the cracks of his lips and the cuticles of his left hand. Fine printed writing was just visible on his wrist, hidden by his shirt cuff.

"Giving big presentations can be nerve racking, hu?" Shaw offered with a smirk. "I'm sure they'll love the dancing squirrel ads."

The man reared back in surprise. "I…uh…well, yes…I hope it goes over well."

"Lucky guess. You're not a psychic." The other man growled.

"Are you going to answer my question?" Lassie snapped.

"Am I under arrest?"

"You're a construction worker, right?" Shawn interrupted.

"Any dolt could figure that out." He rounded on Shawn.

"Spencer! Go dance in the hall or something and get out of my interrogation room." Lassiter sprang from his seat, loosing his temper.

"Aw…Lassie." Shawn whined, but headed out as he was told.

"Stay out of my way and don't go interrogating anyone else."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm not getting much off of these guys anyway. I'll update you at home later." Shawn winked, darting out the door.

Lassiter faltered a moment before shaking his head and sitting back down. The two men across the table were eyeing him warily. Jules made of point of not looking at him.

"Is he…?" The shorter man was still watching the door, looking surprised.

"An idiot and a joker." Lassiter growled, straightening his lapels. "But a decent detective."

Now Jules did stare at him, barely keeping her mouth from falling open in shock. Lassiter had just complemented Shawn. The taller man snorted derisively.

"He was like that during the match too. You guys were the ones in green, right?"

Lassiter nodded slowly. "That's not really important."

"You should stay away from him." The man continued. "He's a bad nut. You don't want him dragging you down."

"Just answer my damn question." Lassie snapped dangerously. "Where were you the last two days?"

… .. .

To say they made no progress would be optimistic to say the least. Aside from the first pair of rookies, no one was helpful. The other two pairs of rookies were snippy and stoned, respectively. Lassiter was finally so fed up that he headed back to his desk, turning over handling the suspects to Jules and Buzz. He had background checks running on every one of them, including the victims and had sent formal requests for cooperation from their workplaces on verifying their whereabouts.

Now he was going to head back to Mr. Logan's place and follow up. So far it appeared the man was telling the truth, but there was no telling what he could do with the kinds of connections he had.

With a sigh, he stood, collecting his jacket and straightening his shoulder holster. Damn Spencer invading his life. He wasn't even sure what he was thinking giving him a key. Ten minutes of deliberating on whether he should or not, and he still didn't know why he did. Even more so, he wasn't sure why it made him so nervous. He was just giving Shawn a key, right? It wasn't like Shawn couldn't already get in and out of his house.

This just felt so much like he was giving him permission.

Home. That's what Shawn had called it. He had practically moved in over the past week. To Lassiter's alarm, he found himself wondering if that was a bad thing. Living with Shawn wasn't as bad as he would have assumed. Frankly, his house was too big to live in on his own. He supposed he had bought it stubbornly clinging to the idea that Victoria would someday come back to him.

Shawn, however, was attempting to cram every piece of expensive memorabilia and collectables in a couple of rooms that were too small for him. Probably because he had no motivation to move into a bigger apartment.

He briefly wondered when he had stopped allowing decorations in his house. It was so bare compared to Shawn's. He quickly shook that thought away. What was he thinking about? He told himself to worry about the case and stop thinking about Shawn. They could discuss the whole key issue later when they were both off work.

… … .. . .. … …

**Bit of a short chapter, but yay for progress. Man, nobody wants to let anyone finish speaking in this chapter…**


	16. Chapter 16

…**Still not owning. **

… … .. . .. … …

Shawn cursed lightly, slipping through the open window with the finesse of a three hundred pound tumbler. Gus turned back to look at him, rolling his eyes and shushing him. Shawn grinned, shutting the window and following Gus into the main room. They were in the twins' house, looking for connections to the other victims.

"Why are we sneaking in? Don't the police have a warrant?"

"Not yet. Their roommate is struggling to keep them out."

"Why?"

"That's what I'm looking into."

"And where is their roommate right now?"

"Work. He's a florist." Shawn paused to look over the photos of the three, looking happy together.

"They sure looked happy together. Do you think he was jealous they were cutting him out of the picture?" Gus frowned, leaning over Shawn's shoulder to survey the photos as well.

"Something tells me they've always been that close. If anything, they'd be drifting apart. Which they weren't. No. He was used to them." Shawn headed into the kitchen, puling open cabinets, drawers, and the fridge.

Shawn headed back into the roommate's bedroom, noting the piles of clothing and various knickknacks. Nothing really jumped out and screamed at him to be noticed. He turned on his heel, heading into the twins' room. He could tell it was theirs because of the bunk bed taking up half the room. Two desks took up the other side. Riffling through, he found work documents and a laptop.

The password was 'swordfish'.

More work files, a few silly photos, and more than one poorly written fan fiction littered the computer. All he could figure out was that the brother was an accountant and the sister worked as a therapist. Speculations on her mental status aside, there wasn't much to be learned from their room. Nothing helpful anyway.

He walked into the bathroom to see Gus routing through their drug cabinet.

"Find anything interesting?"

"Just your typical selection of antihistamines, Dramamine, mouthwash…Nothing out of the usual, you?" Gus closed up the cabinet and followed Shawn back into the living room.

"Me either."

"So we came here for nothing?" Gus huffed.

"No. That's just it. There's a lot to be said about finding nothing." Shawn headed back to the window and re-opened it.

"Now what?" Gus asked as Shawn tumbled back out of the house.

"Now we look into the only thing they do have in common. I've got to be missing something." Shawn frowned, detangling himself from a poorly positioned bush.

… .. .

"There's absolutely no traces of fishy business in his records. We've double and triple checked for a paper trail, Carlton. Admit that Shawn may be right and Mr. Logan had nothing to do with it." Juliet sighed, whispering to her partner as they watched the business man make coffee.

"I already know that, O'Hara." Lassiter frowned, eyeing the man.

"Then what are we doing here?"

"Looking for anything that can connect his wife to anyone other than the man she was found with. None of his known business partners has any connection to the other contestants, but he might know something about who she kept company with."

"Sorry, detectives. I'm not the most technologically competent." Gabriel Logan smiled weakly at them, handing them each a cup of coffee.

"It's nothing. Thank you for the coffee." Lassiter offered somberly, sipping the pitch black liquid.

Juliet stared at him a moment, realizing he was putting quite a bit of effort into how he appeared to the man. She took a sip of her own coffee and nearly fought down a gag. It was awful. She watched as Lassie took another sip, acting as though it were the sort of thing he drank daily, rather than the polar opposite to his cream and sugar filled morning beverage. Sometimes the man was worth the respect he commanded.

"Did you know anything about the friends your wife kept?" Lassiter casually set his cup on the counter to be forgotten.

"Not really." Logan admitted. "She has…had a book club she met with on Thursdays. I knew she liked paintball, but I thought she quit playing years ago."

"She was an avid player before?" Juliet followed his action, distancing herself from the darkened brew.

"We actually met playing paintball. After we got married and moved to Santa Barbra, neither of us had time to continue."

"Was she involved in any business ventures of her own?"

"No. She wasn't really interested in business. Other than reading and her art, I'm not really sure what she did for fun."

"Thank you. We'll call if we have any more questions." Lassiter informed him, heading to the door.

"Of course." Mr. Logan sighed. "Please, let me know as soon as you find anything out."

"We'll let you know as soon as we can." Juliet said, following Lassiter out the door and down the drive.

Out side, Lassiter buckled up impatiently, starting the engine as soon as his partner opened her door. She kept an eye on him as she buckled up, noting the stiff posture and white knuckles. After a few moments she sighed, crossing her arms.

"What's wrong?"

"There's absolutely no reason she should be dead. I can't figure it out."

"There has to be something." Juliet frowned. "We'll figure it out."

"After how many more deaths?" Lassiter snarled, hitting his lights and flooring it.

She didn't answer, watching the cars and buildings fly by. She knew where he was coming from. It was horrifying how often they dealt with serial murders. And it always took just one more person's death to figure it out. It always took just one more day. He'd never said it out loud before though.

Maybe he and Shawn weren't over the last case yet.

"With luck, Spencer's figured something out." Lassiter sighed, pulling up to a stop outside the station.

"How is Shawn?" Juliet asked tentatively, trying not to push.

Lassiter didn't seemed to notice. "Better, I think. He slept the whole night."

"He spent the night?" She bit her lip immediately. "Never mind. It isn't important."

Carlton furrowed his brow, glancing at her. She was always was one for asking questions, and had never backed down before. That was more suspicious than her interest in where Shawn was staying.

"Of course he was at your place. He was wearing your shirt…" She mumbled, catching his attention even more.

"He still seems to think he needs to keep an eye on me." Lassiter unbuckled, but didn't get out of the car.

"It's sweet." She smirked. "Does he usually just let himself in and out of your house when he pleases?"

"Not since the first few times." Lassiter stretched.

"You're being oddly forthcoming. Are you sick?" Juliet frowned, placing the back of her hand to his head.

He swatted it away, growling. "I don't have to answer your questions O'Hara. It's none of your business."

"Sorry." She murmured, removing her seatbelt and reaching for the door. "So you've been letting him in and out of your house?"

"I gave him a key."

The both turned to each other, eyes searching. Juliet wasn't sure what to say. Was he serious? She was loath to admit she was a bit jealous. Shawn wasn't a trusting individual, not really. And neither was Lassiter. She spent so much time trying to get close to her partner and Shawn spent all his time trying to get on his nerves. And yet…

Not that she wanted a key to his house.

And he was being more open with her, for some reason. Why was she upset again?

Lassiter sat tensely, watching her, waiting for some reaction. He didn't want O'Hara to know about…whatever was going on in his life. It wasn't her business. She was someone who could attest to Spencer's flighty nature. Gus would instantly tell him giving Shawn a key was a bad idea. Henry would read him the riot act. Vick would tell him to get out and go away. Buzz…He wasn't going to tell Buzz.

Juliet would at least speak her mind without preconceived prejudice.

Sometimes Gus assumed a little too much about Shawn. He had known him so long that he didn't think he could change. From what he had heard though, Shawn wouldn't still be in Santa Barbra is he hadn't.

Henry was the same. He'd raised his son, obviously. So of course he knew the kind of stunts Shawn could pull. Whether he was going to admit it or not, Shawn wasn't psychic. He had lied to the police for him. Sometimes Henry could forget how much he wanted to give his son a second chance though.

Juliet averted her eyes, a distant look on her face. "That's good, right? He'll always have somewhere in Santa Barbra he can trust."

"Henry doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon." Lassiter snorted, facing back forward to look at the station.

Jules sighed, rolling her eyes. "Because that's obviously a place he can go when he needs to _not_ run."

"Guster has a productive job here. He's not likely to be transferred to another city." He pushed a bit harder.

"Gus is great. Really. But he was there last time Shawn left. He's never tried to stop him. He only ever stands up to him to remind him he can."

So she agreed with all his reasons. He had been telling himself it wasn't friendship he was offering the fake psychic, but rather the same thing Shawn offered him: a release. He got to yell, and shout, and hit just a little harder than necessary. Shawn got a rile out of him, even after years of his madness. He got to poke, and prod, and still find new things.

Sometimes he felt Shawn needed a skeptic to keep him on his toes without outright doubting him.

Sometimes he needed someone to drive him up the wall to be a better detective.

"…You already thought of all that. Didn't you?" Juliet accused.

"I _am_ a detective O'Hara." Lassiter opened his door, climbing out.

… .. .

"This place is just creepy Shawn. Can we go?"

"No." Shawn replied curtly, searching for a light switch.

Finding one, he flicked it on and was met with utter dreariness. Not alters, fortunately, but clinical grey walls, carpet, and matching furniture. The dim lights flickered faintly and Gus whimpered, grabbing Shawn's arm in alarm. Shawn gulped, but glanced around the small apartment.

"No wonder creeper doesn't smile much." Shawn whispered, nervous in the oppressive building.

Gus grimaced, letting go and starting towards the other rooms. "This is a bad idea Shawn."

"You didn't have to come in this time." Shawn reminded, digging through the man's fridge. "Oh ew. There's something growing in here."

"Oh my God! Shawn!" Gus's voice sounded from the other room.

Shawn sprinted into the room, heart thundering with a moment of worry. His increased pulse dropped off sharply when he saw what the room contained.

On one wall, a push board held pictures of the couple in red, the pair in purple, and the twins in blue. Pictures of their places of work, business cards, and photos of family and friends accompanied them. Another wall held pictures of the rookies. Business contacts, religious affiliations, and such accompanied their pictures too, though in less detail. He only lightly glanced over those, committing them to memory without scrutinizing them in detail.

The largest board, taking up the biggest wall in the room, had his near full attention. At the middle of the board was a picture of him. Articles, photos, business cards from every job he every worked. They littered the board. In the top corner was a picture of him and Gus, taken just after their first paintball victory. It had been crossed out with green sharpie. Below it, the picture of him and Lassie had been tacked on, post-it notes with question marks surrounded the picture.

He felt a little lightheaded.

"What is wrong with this guy?" Gus yelped in horror.

"I think I have a stalker." Shawn whispered in terror, backing out of the room. "We need to leave. Now."

"Uh. Yeah, Shawn. Your last stalker kidnapped your mom, your girlfriend, Jules, me and you." Gus shut the door soundly behind them.

"I know, Gus. I know. Just…shut up."

"You need to tell the cops."

"I _know_." Shawn hissed, shutting off the lights and heading out.

"Then call them and-"

"I'll tell Lassie. Please Gus. Can we just get out of here?" Shawn pleaded.

"Fine, but we're going straight to the police station."

"Gus…" Shawn shook his head. "I don't have enough to go on yet."

"Give them something Shawn. Just make them more interested in him." Gus insisted. "You can tell them about the boards and let them do more research."

"That got someone killed last time." Shawn snapped, buckling up in the passenger seat.

Gus frowned. "And you honestly think not telling anyone is going to go over better?"

Shawn sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. I'll think, you drive."

… .. .

Everyone was used to Shawn's abrupt comings and goings. Darting back and forth between his own inquiries and the station multiple times in one day had made him less of an attraction. If he was going to do anything interesting, there was no telling when he would do it. That's why people generally stopped flocking to where he was.

In the bull pen, Lassiter was talking to a group of officers, steadily growing more annoyed with their questions.

"That's it. No more questions." Lassiter roared. "Anything still relevant by the time I'm done can be saved until then. So shut up."

"Hey Lassie!" Shawn hollered. "Did you miss me?"

"That counts as a question Spencer." Lassiter growled, earning a few suppressed laughs.

"Sorry. Fill me in?" Shawn batted his eyelashes, pulling up a chair.

Lassiter's to be specific.

He crossed his arms along the back of the chair, resting his chin on his forearms. Gus stood behind him. Pointedly looking away from the annoying pair, Lassiter turned back to the group.

"I want people looking into those businesses I mentioned previously. Since the roommate is currently fighting police presence, I want two officers going to his work place when we're done here to request he come in tomorrow for questioning. Make sure he knows it isn't as optional as it sounds. McNab, look into this book club of-"

"Oh!" Shawn jumped to his feet, pushing Lassiter's chair into his leg.

Lassie glared for a split second before sighing. Shawn's hand was to his temple, eyes staring forward slightly unfocused. He had to admit he really had that act down. Everyone turned to Shawn to watch what he was going to say.

"I see five women, and some really trashy romance novels." Shawn giggled. "Their discussing their husband's business. That's how they met…"

"You're telling me her book club was with the wives of her husband's business partners." Lassie cut him off before he could babble more.

"Yes." Shawn shrugged, ignoring the way Gus kicked the back of his leg.

"Okay. Fine. Now we know who to talk to about that." Lassiter snapped his fingers at a pair of officers, indicating they should write that down.

Buzz raised his hand, earning a sharp look from Lassiter. "Um…What about that creepy guy?"

Here was his chance. Shawn jolted, hand jerking out to grab Lassie's arm. His other hand flew to his head and he allowed his knees to buckle. He wasn't expecting the arm around his waist or the fact that he was effectively held up against the head detective's chest.

"Spencer?" Lassiter raised his voice, shaking him lightly. "Guster. What's happening?"

"Ah! I…pictures…and clippings…so much…nng." Shawn gripped tighter, remembering the pictures seeing the camera angles and the reports of his jobs.

The crime scene photos. He had almost missed them on the wall behind the open door. Where had he gotten all those photos? Pictures of the dead…the same as on the police computer. A picture of Shawn, vomiting in the yard. Lassiter holding him up. Shawn and Lassie leaving psych. Carlton carrying him into his house.

This time his knees really did buckle as he ran through the images of every moment of the case. Why hadn't he felt like he was being watched before? The signs were all there. Someone was following their every move. Someone knew their every move. Was he the killer, or just stalking him? Shawn racked his brain, but couldn't find enough information.

Something cool and damp on his forehead brought him from his thoughts. He realized quickly that he was close to the ground with a wet washcloth gently mopping his face. A pair of legs supported his back and a familiar arm was tucked around his waist, keeping him in place.

"Damn it Shawn, snap out of it." Henry's voice growled close to his ear, notably on the opposite side of the body holding him.

"What's wrong with him?" Juliet was standing somewhere to his feet.

"His…vision got a bit in-depth." Gus offered, towards his head.

"He probably got sidetracked and started over thinking it." Henry concluded.

"Everyone get back." Lassiter's voice was overwhelmingly loud next to his ear.

So that was who was holding him up. Not surprising considering he already had a hand around him. He opened his eyes to see officers swarming in the opposite direction, Buzz ushering them back. Apparently Lassiter was serious about them leaving. How many people had come to see him? He glanced back the other way and saw Lassie and Vick towering over him, stern looks on their faces.

Lassie was still holding the damp washcloth.

"Hey Lassie."

"Don't 'Hey Lassie' me Spencer." Lassiter growled, "You collapsed."

"Sorry." He let his head fall back. "I was a bit overwhelmed."

"Shawn. Did you have another episode?" Gus had knelt down, meeting his eyes with worry.

"No…no. I…saw someone following us."

"Following?" Lassie tensed. "What do you mean? Who?"

"I…I think it's the proprietor of the paintball shop." Shawn struggled to sit up, trying to balance on Lassie's bent knees. "There…there's a lot of pictures. There's someone who's following us. You and me."

"You and me?" Lassiter sounded alarmed, helping him stand.

"Yeah. Everywhere." Shawn shuddered, straightening himself out. "We've been watched ever since Wednesday."

Vick straightened in alarm. Gus and Jules exchanged worried looks. Henry gripped Shawn's shoulder tightly.

"You're off the case."

"What?" Shawn snapped his head around.

"No more. Wednesday was the day of the competition. If someone is following you because of that, you both are in danger. So you're both off the case."

"Look here, if you think I'm going to-"

"You don't get a say in this Detective." Vick interrupted.

"You know this won't stop me from working the case." Shawn growled.

"I'm serious Shawn." Henry folded his arms sternly across his chest.

"It would be safer to keep us on the case." Lassie insisted. "Otherwise there's no telling what could happen."

"Oh gee, thanks." Shawn deadpanned.

"Maybe you should sit the rest of this out." Gus offered diplomatically. "You've already helped."

"Gus! You're supposed to be on my side."

"We can handle the rest of this case." Juliet insisted.

"I'm the Head Detective here. This is my case."

"If Shawn stays on the case he could get shot again. Maybe worse. Lassiter can't keep an eye on him while working the case himself. You two just couldn't do it. Both of you could get hurt if you stay on the case. Lassiter, you should keep an eye on Shawn so he doesn't get hurt."

Everyone stared a moment at Buzz, reminded that he was, in fact an officer. Sometimes he knew what he was talking about. Shawn scuffed his shoe on the floor, looking up at Lassiter with a frown. Lassiter was staring at his shoulder, where a scar lay hidden beneath the detective's police shirt. He glanced around, noting the expectant looks he was being given. His eyes fell to Juliet and he felt a tinge of anger.

She kept jumping to conclusions about him with absolutely nothing to base them on.

If she wanted to make unfounded decisions, then fine. Far be it for him to keep fuel from the fire. He cast an annoyed look at Gus, daring him to say something as he threw his arms around Lassie's neck and leaned heavily on him.

"Fine. I'm too exhausted right now. Lassie, will you take me home?"

Lassiter scowled, not sure about the sudden change in attitude. "Alright."

"Oh! Wait! First we should get dinner. Then we can stop by my place and get some of my things. I need to put your key on my key chain too." Shawn's grin slowly widened as he watched the others from the corner of his eye.

Gus' mouth fell open, but there was a disapproving glint in his eye. He knew exactly what Shawn was doing and he didn't approve. He couldn't call him out on it, though, without opening the floor to a slew of problems.

Henry was opening and closing his mouth repeatedly like a bass out of water.

Vick was lightly red, to her credit.

Juliet's mouth was a thin, firm line. She had a nagging suspicion that Shawn had just made a point. It was her victory, though, because she wanted them to get along. She was just waiting for him to figure that out.

Buzz was nodding thoughtfully, looking smug that he got his point across and completely unfettered by Shawn's declaration.

Lassiter blushed lightly, but made a point of not looking at anyone but Shawn. "Alright. Where do you want to eat?"

"Shenanigans?" Shawn asked hopefully and got a resigned sigh as a response.

They made a point of not making eye contact with anyone as they left. Stunned silence, chalk one up to Shawn. Fortunately, that would give him a little time.

… … .. . .. … …

**The plot thickens.**

**A little self-deprecating humor in here if you can catch it.**


	17. Chapter 17

…**Still not owning. **

… … .. . .. … …

"We're not going to Shenanigans." Shawn declared, eyes staring blankly out the side window.

"Okay…" Lassiter glanced sideways at him. "Where do you want to go?"

"Psych. You're dropping me off. I have work to do."

Lassiter tensed, gripping the wheel tighter. That was more along the lines of what he was expecting.

"Shenanigans it is."

"What?" Shawn turned to him, surprised.

"We're being followed." Lassiter said calmly, as though he were talking about his latest pistol. "A public place like a restaurant should provide some clues about who's doing it."

"You mean, you want to figure out who's following us?"

"I am a detective. Why do people seem to forget that?" Lassie growled, frowning.

"I didn't forget." Shawn whispered, crossing his arms in front of his chest, upset.

The ride to Shenanigans was quiet. Shawn kept watch of all the cars they drove near, checking for repeat offenders. Nothing jumped out at him, proving more frustrating than anything else. Shawn tensed when they pulled into the parking lot, catching Lassiter as he moved to open his door. Lassie leaned back, into Shawn's personal space.

"Something wrong?" His whisper ghosted across Shawn's ear.

"Just wanted to see something." Shawn nodded, eyes trained on the street behind them.

"Did you?"

Shawn turned to face him, eyes widening when their noses bumped together. "Uh. Maybe. Are…we should go in."

Lassiter pulled away from him, carefully, and exited the car. Shawn followed quickly, casting a look at the reflections in the windows as they headed in. Their presence was greeted with enthusiastic zeal. Carlton requested a booth in view of the door. No one asked why. They were both keeping a close eye on who walked in and out.

The waitresses were a little distraught at their cold nature. Shawn offered the girls a warm smile, rubbing his hand over Lassiter's arm. Said detective snapped his head up, looking at Shawn like he were crazy. With a frown he turned to offer his meal order to the now beaming woman, ignoring the fact that Shawn's hand was still on his arm.

Until, Shawn squeezed his arm tight enough to bruise. Then Lassiter turned to him sharply, and smoothly followed his line of sight to the front door. A man was standing there, khaki overcoat and matching hat hiding many of his features.

"Spencer?"

"That's Luntz. What is he doing here?" Shawn whispered, eyes only partially leaving the man.

"He may be a SWAT negotiator, but he does live in Santa Barbara Spencer. Just because you don't see him every day at work doesn't mean he disappears." Lassiter said reproachfully, but he kept his eyes trained on the man.

"That's my point. He's SWAT. So why does he have a camera?"

"What?"

"I saw the strap for it, under his coat. Lassie, something's not right."

Lassiter turned to Shawn, and was caught off guard by what he saw. The younger man's green eyes were filled with worry and a tinge of fear.

"Spencer," Lassiter leaned across the table, covering his hand with his own and offering a fake smile. "What's wrong? You need to tell me."

"I…I saw Declan's car, at the precinct. I think, what ever this is, he's in on it."

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "You're paranoid. What, you think O'Hara's old flames are stalking you?"

"Carlton." That got his attention. "I'm serious. I don't know what the creeper has to do with it yet, but this is the kind of operation that would take about three people. It's possible whoever's behind this got them involved. I don't know why, but it's the truth."

Lassiter frowned. "Okay. We obviously can't tell O'Hara or Gus. They wouldn't believe us. We should stick to the plan, in case Declan was inside the precinct and heard you. We get some things from your place, and then we go home."

Shawn flushed, drawing his hand back quickly. Lassiter had just implied…

The detective realized what he said a second too late and quickly looked away, drawing his arms tight against his chest. It was stress, he told himself, causing him not to think about what he was saying. Spencer was avoiding eye contact, red. Spencer didn't blush. He instigated the awkward encounters and subtle flirting.

The waitress giggled at their red faces, setting their food down with a wink.

… .. .

Dinner had been awkward. Now that he knew where to look, he caught sight of Luntz watching him. Shawn was right. They tried to push aside the awkwardness of it all to focus on the fact they were being tailed, but found it hard to meet each other's eyes. There was no way that was going unnoticed. Not if the man really had been tailing them.

Lassiter noticed, after ten minutes of sitting in the car not going anywhere, that Luntz wasn't following them out. He turned the engine over and pulled out, only to stop in a parking lot a little ways down. Shawn looked up at him in surprise.

"Either they're switching in who's tailing us, or they're waiting for us the majority of the time."

"So what are you trying to see?"

"There." Lassiter pointed to the door of the Shenanigans, noting how Luntz stopped and pulled a cell out. "He's calling the others to tell them we just left."

"Should we confront him." Shawn leaned back in the seat, watching Luntz head to his car.

"Not yet. Not until we know who their third person is."

Lassie's phone rang and he frowned checking the ID. It was McNab.

"What do you want?"

"We've can't find the shopkeeper anywhere. His house has been trashed. There are news clippings everywhere, but no photos, like Shawn saw. He may have taken them with him."

Lassiter swore, rubbing his hand over his face. "Alright. Find him. And check for the contestants, make sure they all have police protection. If he's after one of them, someone could get killed."

"The shopkeeper's missing?" Shawn asked when Lassie hung up.

"Apparently they found the news clippings, but no pictures."

"So if it's creeper, he's making his move."

"Or he's running. We've got police looking everywhere for him." Lassiter leaned forward in his seat, resting his arms on the steering wheel.

"So basically we have to wait?" Shawn growled.

"Unless you can think of where he'd be, yes."

Shawn thought a moment, frowning. "I need to go to Psych."

"Spencer…"

"I need to figure something out, Lassie. I'm so close. I need to figure out who he is."

Lassie sighed, shaking his head. "Why Psych? What can you find there that you can't figure out any where else?"

"I can't tell you."

"If I take you there, I'm staying." Lassie informed him tensely.

Shawn looked up at him, frowning. "Lassiter. Please. I can't do this with you right now."

"Then don't." Blue eyes flickered with anger. "You forget I have a gun. I'll keep you safe without interfering with what you do."

"You can't do that."

"Spencer…" Lassiter leaned into him, setting his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I can't help you if you don't let me."

Shawn gulped staring at the older man, who was very suddenly in his personal space. "L-lassie?"

"Yeah, Spencer?" Lassiter smirked at him, hand trailing down the psychic's arm.

"W-what are you…doing?" He squeaked.

"Hm?" Lassie had caught the other's wrist, thumbing the skin there gently.

"What are you doing?" Shawn asked more firmly, cheeks a cherry red.

"Oh." Lassiter smiled warmly at him. "I'm cuffing you."

The second he said it, he had the cold metal around Shawn's wrist and was latching the other side to the car door. Shawn made a rather undignified screech, attempting to remove the handcuff through excessive struggling and swatting at Lassiter. Satisfied that the infuriating brunette was secured in place, Lassiter started the car and pulled out.

Luntz was nowhere in sight.

Shawn was hollering in the passenger seat, demanding freedom. "This has got to be illegal."

"I could just shoot you, if you preferred."

Shawn groaned. "I can't believe you used seduction to distract me."

"Consider it payback for all the times you've distracted me." Lassiter snorted, slowing down for the red light.

Shawn grinned, placing his free hand on Lassiter's thigh. "I distract you?"

"I'm not stupid enough to put the key to those cuffs somewhere you could reach." Lassiter ignored him.

"Urg." Shawn moaned emphatically. "Come on. At least un-cuff me. I won't leave."

"No Spencer. Not until you tell me what you're planning."

"This is called emotional hijacking you know. Gus told me all about it." Shawn pouted, returning to his attempts at escape.

"Probably in an attempt to explain what you are constantly doing to him."

"That is completely beside the point." Shawn huffed.

They sat in silence the rest of the way to Shawn's place. Lassiter climbed out of the car, coming around and pulling Shawn's door open. The young psychic squeaked, falling partially out of the car when his arm was dragged by the door.

"Both wrists, I'm cuffing you before we go in."

"Oh? Thanks." Shawn frowned, but allowed Lassiter to switch the cuff from the door to his other wrist. "Cuffing me in front? Isn't that against the rules?"

"You're not under arrest." Lassiter returned the key to his inner coat pocket.

So that was were he was keeping it.

Lassie pulled him up to his feet and locked the car, heading up to the door. "Where is your key?"

"Front left pocket." Shawn beamed at him.

"Your hands are cuffed in front, you can get it yourself."

"Yes…" Shawn simpered, "But I don't want to let you in my house."

Lassiter growled, fingers twitching for his gun. Fighting to keep from hitting the young man in front of him, he reached into Shawn's left pocket and quickly withdrew it.

"Spencer, you don't have anything in that pocket. Stop it." He was honestly trying not to hit a cuffed man.

"Don't I?" Shaw batted his eyelashes innocently. "Hm. Better check them all then."

Lassiter paused, looking Shawn over appraisingly before holding his hand out, palm up, with a cold glare. Shawn frowned, dropping the keys into his hand with an exaggerated sigh. Carlton rolled his eyes, turning around and unlocking the door. He yelped, tripping over the threshold as Shawn splayed his hands over his lower back.

"Spencer!"

"Oops. I fell."

"Stop it."

"You started it."

"I'm stopping it."

"Actually, I probably started it. I mean, yeah you did manhandle me when we first met, but I really went a bit overboard with the lap dances and fondling. Oomph." Shawn groaned as he was pushed roughly against his front door, shutting it.

"Shut up Spencer. Now is not the time." The head detective snarled, pinning Shawn to the door with his shoulder.

"Shit." Shawn let his head fall back with a thud, closing his eyes. "Ow. The doorknob is digging into my back."

Lassiter paused, considering the statement a moment before pulling back enough to allow Shawn to shift. He also lifted his hands, securing the younger man by the shoulders, rather then pressing his own shoulder into his sternum. Shawn's eyes flitted over his face, widening with surprise.

"Oh."

"What?"

"I think I figured it out." Shawn gulped, eyes flicking to focus somewhere over Lassiter's ear.

"Figured what out?" Lassiter was genuinely confused.

"I-i…I shouldn't tell you." Shawn's tone switched from strangely shaking to a purr.

"And why not?" He was considering returning his shoulder to that infuriating sternum.

Cuffed hands settled on the edge of his slacks. "You're a detective…"

Lassiter frowned, furrowing his brow in confusion. Shawn just grinned, delighted. With a sultry look, he leaned in, brushing his lips against the other man's ear.

"Figure it out yourself."

Lassiter jumped back, eyes widening with horror as he shouted curses. Shawn laughed as he heard tumbling in the dark and reached to his side to flick the lights on. He kind of wished he hadn't.

On the wall behind his bed was a large, green 'X'. Lassiter looked up immediately when the blood drained from Shawn's face. He jumped to his feet, pulling his gun and tossing Shawn the key to his cuffs. Now was not the time for games. Shawn was looking over the room, too worried to be confused. Lassiter cleared the rooms, returning to where Spencer was once he was confidant there was no one there.

With a moment's hesitation, he returned his gun to its holster.

"We need to get out of here Spencer."

Shawn nodded, flexing his wrists as he returned the cuffs and keys. "Let me grab some clothes. It'd look weird if I don't."

Lassiter growled, stuffing the cuffs in his pocket and re-drawing his gun. "Fine."

Shawn hurriedly grabbed a pile of pants and shirts and followed Lassiter out the door. The detective tucked his gun away, locked the door, and ushered the man to his car. Shawn stuffed the clothes in back and buckled up, eyes still slightly glazed, deep in thought. It was only after a little while of driving that Shawn began speaking.

"There's creeper, Gabriel Logan, that one man: the skeptic from the station, the wife…" Shawn leaned his head on the passenger window, frowning.

"What are you doing?" Lassiter glanced sideways at him.

"Listing the people involved that know my address."

"What? How do all of those people know your address?" Lassiter glowered.

"Creeper has mine from the sign up. I listed you with me, since I know you didn't want anyone knowing where you live. Logan has mine because of a delivery order for a coke-a-cola themed bouncy castle. The skeptic…I don't remember why I gave it to him. I gave it to the wife because she wanted to visit me once the baby was born so I could see it."

"Bull. You know exactly why you gave it to the skeptic."

"Okay, fine. He wanted to look at some of the memorabilia I have."

"You're an idiot." Lassiter rolled his eyes. "Thank you for not telling that creepy bastard where I live though."

"If he's stalking me, he already knows." Shawn pointed out glumly.

"Wonderful." Carlton hissed, narrowing his eyes with distaste. "You really need to stop attracting stalkers."

Shawn laughed. "Now you sound like Gus."

Lassiter made a gagging sound in the back of his throat. "Next time I do that you can pistol whip me."

"I'd rather spank you." Shawn hummed, waggling his eyebrows.

Lassiter spared him a quick, incredulous look. "What the hell has gotten into you Spencer? Maybe I do need to shoot you to help clear your head."

Shawn sighed. "I'm restless, okay."

They were silent a moment as they pulled into Lassiter's driveway. He turned the car off and pocketed his keys, thinking something over. Shawn shifted in his seat, turning to stare at him. Lassiter looked indecisive, like he were mulling some thought over. The more he watched him, the more confused Shawn was. Lassiter was lightly strumming his fingers, eyes vacantly staring ahead.

"What do you need?"

Shawn didn't know how to respond to the question. "What?"

Lassiter turned to look at him, a determined, cold look in his eyes. "You're restless, fine. What do you need? What can I do to keep you here?"

That came out wrong. The underlying whispers weren't what caught Shawn. He appreciated a good innuendo as much as anyone else, but the words fell flat on his ears. His breath caught in his throat. The real meaning behind those words was so much more potent.

"No one's asked me that before." Shawn whispered.

"I'm asking now."

Shawn leaned forward, eyes searching for something. He couldn't understand it. Lassie had no reason to be there for him. They'd done well before he came to the department. Shawn was a thorn in his side. Why did he keep surprising him?

"Lassie…"

They both winced as his phone rang out. Shawn looked away, sheepishly. Gritting his teeth, Lassiter flipped his phone open without checking the ID.

"What?" He snapped, angry.

"Carlton, thank God." Juliet's voice was filled with worry. "We can't find the married couple or Mr. Logan. There are a few of the rookies we brought in that aren't answering their phones. Creeper's still missing. Where are you and Shawn?"

"We're at my place. Has the chief agreed to let us come in?"

"No. No. Stay there. Your house is probably the safest place you can be. Stay together."

"Alright. Let me know when the situation changes." He glanced sideways and frowned. "Oh. And O'Hara: Get a couple of officers over to Spencer's place. Someone broke in."

He turned to Shawn as he snapped the phone shut, an apologetic look on his face. Shawn sighed, rubbing his face. That call had broken through at just the right moment. Thank the police for perfect timing, as ironic as that was.

Well, maybe not. Lassiter had saved his life by walking in at just the right time on more than one occasion.

"Who can't they find?" Shawn asked, not looking back at him.

"Mr. Logan. The couple. A few of the rookies. Creeper is still missing." Lassiter sighed, running his hand through his hair. "This isn't going well."

Shawn sighed, pulling the car door open and sliding out. Lassiter followed, heading to his front door and drawing his gun.

… … .. . .. … …

**Really short chapter. Sorry. **

**Hard to believe it's almost over…**


	18. Chapter 18

…**Still not owning. **

… … .. . .. … …

Lassiter shouldered his door opened slowly, flicking the light on with one swift motion. After he cleared the immediately visible space, he stepped into the house. Shawn edged in behind him, shutting the door. It was vaguely uncomfortable being pinned between Lassie and the hard wood, for the second time that night none the less, but he kept one hand on Lassie as they moved through the house.

Carlton was extremely methodical about his search and unconsciously kept Shawn between him and a wall. Good training and all that.

Once he was sure the rooms were clear, he helped Shawn organize his things. Well, mostly he stood in the doorway watching Shawn fold his clothing, lost deep in though. He couldn't guess what Shawn was thinking on. He, however, was trying to figure out his own motives.

Why was he trying to keep Shawn in Santa Barbara?

Sure, he grudgingly respected the man, but it wasn't any of his business if he wanted to leave. It wasn't like he really gave a damn about the pain. If he left, good riddance. No more Mr. Psychic faking and generally disrespecting everything about the law. He could do his job just fine and he wouldn't have to put up with Shawn's…Spencer's childish antics. Now he just needed to convince himself of that.

Shawn froze head snapping up from his work. He was mouthing something to himself.

"Spencer?" Lassiter stepped forward, immediately fearing another episode.

Shawn darted his eyes to him. "What color would you say the paint on my wall was?"

"Green?"

Shawn groaned. "What kind of green?"

"It was…"Lassiter stilled, eyes widening a bit. "It wasn't the same green as your paintballs."

"That's right." Shawn grinned, bouncing up and down in place like he had just found what he needed. "That's because who ever did it didn't have my paintballs. It couldn't have been the killer, because he would have used the right color."

"Then who?" Lassiter tensed.

No good could come of a copycat.

"I have an idea." Shawn whipped his phone from his pocket, instantly dialing the number he wanted.

"What are you-"

Shawn's hand cut him off as the ringing in his ear stopped and who ever he was calling picked up.

"Uh…Hey, Shawn? Why are you calling me?"

"Hey, Declan, could you do me a favor?" Shawn grinned at the incredulous look Lassiter gave him.

"Maybe? I'm not in the country right now." He laughed, casually.

Shawn laughed too. "Oh, that's good. Because I wanted to borrow the car you left parked at the police station today."

"Oh." To his credit, he didn't swear. "Uh. I can explain."

"Just tell me about the paint in my room and we'll call it even."

"W-what makes you think I've been in your room?" He laughed a bit nervously.

"Declan." Shawn said pointedly, practically rolling his eyes. "You know better than to play this game with me. You're the only one who could have gotten in and out like that."

"Okay. Fine. I did it because your room wasn't safe. Someone had been compassing it. I couldn't get close enough to figure out who it was." He sounded a bit exasperated.

"So you have been watching me."

Now he did swear. So did Lassiter. Shawn glanced over and noticed the look, ready to kill. He waved him down a bit, rolling his eyes and beaming.

"I can't explain that."

"Oh Declan. I know I'm sexy, but if you've been watching, you know I'm already taken." Shawn winked at Lassie, who turned cherry red.

Declan started to laugh. "Oh I saw that. And to think I used to think you were competition."

"So why are you stalking me?"

"I…I told you. I can't explain. Not yet."

"Can you at least tell me who the creeper is? I couldn't get a hold of Luntz to ask him."

"…Damn it Shawn."

"I'll take that as a no as well." He sighed, giving Lassiter his best 'what-can-you-do' look.

"Look." Declan sounded exasperated. "Just stay low for once. This guy is trouble. I haven't spent these last few months tailing people just to have you swoop in and figure it out."

"People?" Shawn grinned. So easy. "So you aren't just following me?"

"I…What? I never said that. Honestly, Shawn. Not every leap you make is logical." Declan tried to cover instantly, already knowing he had lost.

"No way, Declan." Shawn cawed, triumphant. "You said you've been following people for months. I've only been tailed since Wednesday. Why so long? And why the sudden interest in me?"

He could hear shuffling on the other end of the line before Declan finally sighed. "They're going to kill me for this, you know. You're lucky I know how you operate. I'm sure you've done your research, think about who else might be interested in this case without it officially making connections. The interest in you is because you travel a lot and are a bit unstable."

"So…who are you working with?" Shawn frowned, already racking his brain.

"I can't say Shawn. All I _can_ say is that you're no longer a suspect, but you are definitely a target for this guy."

"Oh!" Shawn's eyes widened. "Oh. I get it now! Thanks Declan."

He hung up before he could receive an answer. That was right. There were things circled on the board, certain jobs he had done in certain places. Three cities. A wide variety of hobbies and connections to various people. That was what had been so interesting about him.

Lassiter was glaring at him, arms folded across his chest. "What's going on Shawn? What do you get _now_?"

Shawn looked up at him in surprise, then remembered their previous discussion and flushed. Yeah. If the incident in his place had been a flashlight on why everyone though the two of them were together, the incident in the car was football stadium floodlights. He was honestly surprised, with how sexually charged their interactions were, that it had taken this long for people to start wondering.

Well…not everyone…but Drimmer didn't count.

He felt his stomach churn a little as he wondered if maybe they weren't on to something. Definitely, there was something odd about their friendship. Maybe…he could use this to his advantage? Explore multiple options at once? Get close…closer…to Lassiter and try to form a more open friendship _and_ make Jules jealous all at once? Could he use Lassie that way? Would it even work?

"Spencer." He growled, shocking him out of his thoughts.

He gulped, leaning in closer. "You know what you could do for me?"

Lassiter tensed, as much at the disgustingly, because it was, damn it, sultry tone, as the call back to their previous discussion. "What?"

Shawn smirked, pressing himself close to the detective, hand sneaking up his chest. Lassiter tensed, but didn't run away or push him off. His blue eyes scanned Shawn's face, looking for some answer in the erratic, changing behavior. Shawn leaned up closer pressing a soft kiss to Lassiter's jaw, noting with some glee the way it clenched even as his hand stole into his breast pocket.

"Spencer." Lassiter said forcefully, placing his hands on Shawn's shoulders. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Hm?" Shawn hummed thoughtfully, heart beating far too loud in his chest as he dragged Lassiter's hands down towards his stomach.

"What are you doing?" Lassiter repeated, eyes locked on Shawn's, trying not to focus on where his hand was being placed.

"Oh." Shawn grinned, and a sudden feeling of déjà vu swept over him in time for him to yank one of his hands away.

Shawn managed to get the cuff around the other one. He didn't manage to get it attached to anything else as the larger detective picked him up and threw him on the bed, pinning him there with his knee as he searched his pocket for the cuff key. He came up short and glared down at Shawn, who was rasping with the effort of unsuccessfully pushing him off.

"Give me my key Spencer."

"No." He wheezed petulantly, frowning.

"What the hell do you think you're trying to pull?" He growled, leaning more of his weight on his knee and causing Shawn to wince.

He coughed a bit, pushing weakly on the pressure on his chest. "Why did that work better when you did it?"

"Stop it Spencer. I don't know what you're playing, but you need to stop."

Shawn winced, carefully weighing the stupidity of his next move before he did it. Fortunately, he only had to make an aborted reach for Lassiter before the other man was scrambling away from him, cheeks dusted with an enraged pink. He barely had time to sit up though as Lassiter pushed him back down on the bed.

"Omph." Shawn winced again at what he was sure was going to be a large bruise on his chest come the morning. "Jeez, Lassie. If you wanted to top, you could have just asked."

He said nothing, but reached down, groping blindly at Shawn's jeans, not daring to take his eyes from the psychic's for a second. Shawn yelped, pushing his hand away, but not before he had found the handcuff key in his left pocket. He undid the cuffs and quickly returned them to his pocket, backing away from Shawn rapidly.

There was far too much touching going on tonight for his liking.

He was loath to admit he was enjoying their impromptu roughhousing a bit more than he should. Sure, he liked pushing Shawn around, but this was getting ridiculous. As an after thought, he wiped at his jaw, still feeling the tingling sensation of Spencer's lips against his skin. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other.

"I'm leaving."

"The hell you are Spencer."

"You can't keep me here."

"I can, and I will. I don't know what's gotten into you, but something's up." Lassiter's hard tone caused Shawn to flinch.

He jumped up with the motion in an attempt to disguise it. "I'm leaving."

Lassiter gritted his teeth at the declaration. "Then I'm going with you."

"You can't."

"If I don't, you won't come back."

That statement hung in the air, a heavy truth that caused them both to inhale sharply. If he left now, he was going to run. He was going to run and keep running. Shawn could feel it, too. The first few months, he would become withdrawn, more openly restless. Then he'd start looking, jokingly, at all the places he could go. He'd just leave one day. Disappear, the only clue that he left a single postcard laying on his desk at the psych office. He'd thought about it before.

He'd come so close once. Had his ticket and his bags were packed. He was going to be leaving within the week. But he didn't. He didn't because Lassiter was in trouble and needed his help. Because he had asked for his help. So he stayed, and ran into Drimmer, and ended up moving to a new place. Every time he had considered just leaving, Lassiter did something he didn't expect, and he stayed to see more.

Sometimes, he didn't even do that. Lassie was just Lassie, and he was fascinated and interested when he shouldn't be. Lassiter was every bit the by the book detective. Shawn could almost always predict what he was going to do, so why did he stay? Was it because he liked annoying him? Or because he liked corrupting him?

"Clearly we need to talk." Lassiter sighed when Shawn didn't speak. "All…this, can't just be because you're getting bored."

"I'm not doing anything." Shawn protested quickly.

"You kissed me." The both tensed at that statement.

"On the cheek." Shawn protested meekly, practically drowning in the awkwardness of the moment.

"Spencer." Lassiter growled.

He shuffled a bit, avoiding eye contact. "It isn't like it's new or anything."

"This is different than your usual antics, Spencer." Lassiter said in exasperation. "You and I both know it."

"Oh come on!" Shawn threw his hands up. "I've been flirting with you since I first showed up in the station! Even when I was dating Jules!"

Shawn squeaked, realizing what he said a moment too late. Lassiter sighed, sitting down on the bed next to him with an entirely unsurprised look on his face.

"You didn't really change any of your behavior when you were dating O'Hara."

Shawn paused, eyes widening a bit. "You knew."

"You weren't as discreet as you thought you were."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"It would be pretty hypocritical of me to comment on office relationships."

Shawn laughed, leaning on an very annoyed Lassiter as he did. "Yeah. I never really got that. I mean, your partner? That just isn't like you."

"I was having a rough time." He offered the answer in defense, though it certainly lacked any real argument.

"Hm. Yeah. I guess." Shawn sighed, shaking his head lightly. "You think we got off on the wrong foot?"

"Yes." Lassiter shrugged, displacing him. "But frankly, I'm not sure there was a right foot to get off on. Lets face it. I know, always have known, and always will know that you're a fraud. You're never going to admit that, so from the start we were going to be opposed to each other."

"I think what you mean to say is that you're a skeptic, I'm a psychic and you're never going to believe." Shawn teased, grin splitting his face.

"See?" Lassiter very nearly rolled his eyes, but didn't. "Don't think you can completely change the direction of this though. You still haven't explained anything."

"I thought I was getting back on topic." Shawn beamed. "Our relationship has always been a bit rough. You shove me into walls, manhandle me into cars, and lift me onto prep tables. Me? I put my hands all over you, flop down into your lap and sign things hugs and kisses. Oh!"

"And we're back to your original 'I get it.' You do realize that is annoying as all hell?" Lassiter growled, snagging Shawn's arm when he started to stand.

"Don't just sit there Lassie-sassy!" Shawn started dragging him up. "We can get back in bed together later. We have to go now!"

"What? Where?" Lassiter purposefully ignored a third of what he said.

"I...had a vision." He grinned. "We have to go now! I know where the killer's going to be!"

"What?" Lassiter jumped to his feet, securing a gun and holster at his back and checking the gun on his shoulder. "Where?"

Shawn nearly laughed and raced out to the car. Lassiter followed him quickly, angry at the lack of response. Shawn had already unlocked his car and was starting the engine by the time he dove into the driver's seat.

As he buckled up. "You have to tell me where we're going."

"The paintball stadium." Shawn pulled his phone out, dialing Buzz's number.

"Shawn?"

"Buzz, my man. I had a vision. I know where the killer is. Get everyone down to the paintball stadium and let the Chief know she has to tell the FBI."

"The FBI?" Lassiter asked in surprise, siren already blaring as he raced towards the stadium.

Shawn hung up a moment later and tucked his phone back in his pocket. "I thought this case looked familiar, and I just figured it out. I came across a couple of cases that seemed awfully similar, but there were a bunch of huge differences so no one connected them."

Lassiter put his hand up to brace Shawn as he took a sharp turn and glanced sideways at him. "Are we just going to pretend this discussion didn't happen so we don't waste time on pretense?"

"Yes." Shawn said flatly.

Lassiter nodded for him to continue, both hands back on the wheel. Shawn steeled himself a moment then plunged into his explanation.

"There was this case, a few years back. I used to work in the city. One of my friends called me at the time it happened." Shawn shrugged a bit at that, not that Lassiter was paying enough attention to notice it. "There were two murders, an interracial couple and a pair of adulterers. They were both members of a skiing competition. It was a small time thing, not near pro's, but picking up popularity."

Lassiter nodded absentmindedly. "Okay?"

"At the scene of the crimes, their ski poles were hung from the wall in an X shape." Shawn noticed the way he tensed. "The next year, there was a 'completely unrelated' set of murders."

Lassiter took a dull note of the air quotes Shawn made. They were almost there, and he had no idea what to expect.

"A different city. A different set of people. Four pairs this time. Adulterers, homosexuals, cousins, and a pair of S&M…people...what's the term for that anyway? Never mind. They were all amateur skaters in minor competitions. Circles had been scratched into their walls or floors with their skates, which were tacked in the middle of the circle. Then there was the third set of killings. Pull around back, there's a warehouse there."

Lassiter did as he was told, headlights and siren off, driving slowly. "The third set?"

"Another city, another new sport. Only one pair this time. They were swingers, apparently. Came out in a big scandal a few months earlier. The were members of a trick riding competition. One of their horse blankets, something that was very team specific, was cut into a circle. That was the first time anyone made a connection." Shawn unbuckled as they came to a stop, there was a car sitting in the darkness.

Lassiter drew the gun from his shoulder holster and eased out of the car. Slowly, keeping close watch, he eased to the other car and looked it over. Shawn followed immediately, pressing up behind the car.

"It's a rental. Probably so no one would recognize it." Shawn whispered, noting the slight twitch in Lassiter's shoulders.

"You should have stayed in the car." Lassiter sighed, eyes darting around. "Who made the connection?"

"A reporter. He suggested they were related murders. Suggested calling the man the 'hugs and kisses killer' since he used X's and O's and all of his victims were found in compromising positions. He was pretty much laughed at for the thing." Lassiter snorted, catching the connecting thought process. "Yes, that made me think of it. Shut up."

Shawn chuckled when Lassiter turned to him to glare a moment. He started forward immediately, earning a surprised whisper as Lassiter demanded he stop.

"Then an FBI agent took notice and started looking into it?"

"Yeah. I started being followed Wednesday because by some contrived coincidence I have connections in all those cities. And have been involved in all those sports…"

Lassiter actually laughed, smiling in spite of the absurd situation they were in. "You ice skate?"

Shawn blinked at him, then beamed. "You laughed. I get points for that."

Lassiter's face fell and he immediately schooled a glare in place. "So who ever did his is someone who travels a lot. That doesn't really help. A lot of the people who are suspects only just joined Paintball this season for the competitions. And the shopkeeper was just recently hired on for this season."

"Him I can explain." Shawn leaned up against the wall, eyeing the door that was ajar. "He's not a suspect. I was. Well, not just me. The killer was also a suspect. So when he saw both of us about to take part in the competitions, because you have to sign up before the season, he jumped on the extra position that needed filled."

"We'll finish this discussion in a bit." Lassiter whispered, slinking ahead of Shawn and teasing the door open.

The lights were on, but no one was in clear view. A pair of boxes had been knocked over, paintballs spilling out of one and decals from another. The warehouse was obviously holding a mix of supplies. Lassiter stepped in slowly, swinging his gun around as he scoped the room. He frowned. Where was this guy?

"Lassie." Shawn said behind him, earning a sharp growl.

"Quiet Spencer." Lassiter hissed, eyes still searching the room.

"Uh…kind of late for that."

Lassiter whipped his head around, eyes falling immediately to the gun barrel pointed at Shawn's temple. His heart nearly stopped, think of how stupid he had been to not wait for backup, to not have noticed the man was somewhere outside, to have not been paying closer attention to Shawn.

The obnoxious brunette grinned. "At least we found him."

"Shut up." The young man hissed, pushing him further into the warehouse with his gun. "And drop your gun or the 'psychic' here gets it. Go ahead, tell him how you can see me putting a bullet through your skull."

Shawn frowned emphatically. "Am I supposed to be agreeing with you or shutting up?"

Lassiter hissed sympathetically with the villain, lowering his gun to the floor. "Don't shoot him. Even if he is a mouthy brat."

"Walk back! Walk back away from it!" The man demanded, gnawing at his ink stained lips.

Lassiter raised his hands slowly, walking backwards away from the gun. With one quick push Shawn was stumbling forward. The man swooped down and picked up the gun, emptying it and tossing it behind him single-handedly.

Shawn sighed, righting himself and spinning around to face the man. "You've been waiting for the police to look the other way for a while now so you could break in here. A perfectionist like yourself, well, obviously you couldn't use the wrong color for the paint."

"Shut up." He hissed. "Shut up or I shoot you now."

"That's it though, isn't it? Working for an advertising firm, you get a look at a lot of different businesses." Shawn grinned. "Did your research every time. The dancing squirrel ad, that's for the decal company, right?"

"Yeah, that's right. And the bid will go over great." The man thrust the gun forward a bit, stilling Lassiter when he moved to lower his hands. "Keep them up."

"Why are you killing people in the competitions?" Lassiter growled, hands still in the air.

"None of your business."

Shawn fielded the question instead. "Don't you get it, Lassie? Clearly those people are sick. Or at least, he thinks so."

"You're damn right they're sick." The man howled. "Disgusting. People like that shouldn't be catered to."

"How did he know it was safe to come here tonight?" Lassiter knew asking the man himself would only lead to another round of passing the question off.

"He answered his cell when the police called to look for anyone that might be in dagnger. When they told him what was happening, he spun some lie about being in the office, but said he'd get home as soon as possible. If they send someone to the office and he isn't there, he says he left immediately. If they check his house and he isn't there, he says he got hung-up." Shawn stuffed his hands in his pockets, earning a well timed growl.

"Put your hands back up."

"Nope. Because you aren't going to shoot me. That'd throw off your thing." Shawn said cheerfully. "You want to find the shipment of those distinctly colored paintballs so you can freeze them and kill me…us."

"Wait, wait, wait." Lassiter shook his head, frowning. "Why would he want to kill us? Well, aside from catching him now."

Both of them turned to him, a flat look on their faces.

"Seriously, Lassie?" Shawn sighed. "He wasn't entirely sure when we played paintball, because you kept pushing me away, but the scene at the precinct? We were just having this conversation."

"That's enough!" The man interrupted. "The pattern doesn't matter. I can't just let you walk off while I take the time to find and freeze the paintballs. You'll just have to die here, like this. I'll set it up to look like the others afterwards."

"You don't have to do this." Lassiter insisted, trying to talk him down.

"Obviously I do."

"Can I have a last request, before you shoot us?" Shawn tilted his head to the side.

The man froze, before nodding slowly. "Okay, maybe. What do you want?"

"Just to say a proper goodbye to my partner." Shawn turned to Lassie, smiling weakly. "One hug?"

The man hissed in distaste. "You'll get to hug him in death, isn't that enough?"

"Who the hell said you were my partner?" Lassiter interrupted angrily. "I don't want hugging you to be the last thing I do."

"You don't have to hug back." Shawn informed him curtly, devious smirk in place. "In fact, I'd prefer if you didn't."

"Get it over with." The man snapped, hands shaking a bit.

Shawn snaked his arms around Lassiter's torso, murmuring a quick apology. Lassiter left his hands in the air, pointedly not looking down. Across from him, the killer sneered, hand twitching on the gun in an effort to not shoot them right then.

… … .. . .. … …

**Exposition chapter! Now you know what's going on. Hopefully you don't all hate me for the previously unincluded information. Obviously if I explained it everything would have been pretty obvious.**

**Now for the fun game: **_**Can you tell who Creeper is?**_** He is an actual character from the show, after all.**

**Trust me when I say this is one of the better places for me to leave off. I could have made it an even worse cliffhanger. That is, unfortunately, how it works at highpoints like these unless I want to write an ungodly long chapter.**


	19. Chapter 19

…**Still not owning. Beware the immediate violence.**

… … .. . .. … …

"Alright." The man snapped. "That's enough. Quit touching."

"Hm?" Shawn's little laugh was muffled by Lassiter's chest. "Sorry Lassie."

Lassiter felt his gut sink. "It's alright Spencer."

"This is going to hurt." He whispered, hands clenching at Carlton's back for a split second.

His heart stopped as Shawn's arms pulled away from him and cleared his side. The man screeched at the quick movement, gun shifting down to train on the psychic's head. Three shots rang out and Lassiter nearly dropped to the ground. Blood coursed through his ears, ringing and silent all at once from the pressure. The sound of the gun going off so close in the echoing building left him dazed, but not unable to reach. His hand reached out for the gun in Shawn's hand even as their attacker slid to the ground.

A fine mist, sprayed from the two holes in the front of his chest, dusted his clothes and the ground in front of him with red. A wide streak of the color spread out behind him. One trail of blood slid down between his eyes, gravity pulling it faster than his unresponsive muscles gave out. The streak of brain and blood was gruesome, drawing the eyes with its chunky composition.

Shawn let his arms dangle in front of him, Lassiter's back-up firearm loose in his palms. His fingers were far from the trigger, a good sign though he was close to dropping the gun. His eyes were locked on the body of the man in front of him.

"Hand it to me Spencer." Lassiter said softly, arm extended, but not taking it.

"Yeah." Shawn whispered, but made not move to do what Carlton asked.

"Turn it in your hand Spencer. You know hand to hand a gun over." He prompted a bit more forcefully.

Shawn blinked at the tone, and shifted the gun, grabbing the top of it with one hand and releasing the butt of it once he had a firm grip. He extended it shakily and Lassiter snatched it quickly. With a sigh of relief he thumbed the safety on and re-holstered it.

"Okay Spencer. You did good." He murmured, stepping closer. "You did good."

"I killed him." Shawn's voice was quiet, creaking with horror.

"You did the right thing." Lassiter whispered, "Look at me, Spencer. You did the right thing."

Shawn stood transfixed a moment, then slowly wrenched his gaze from the body. His eyes were hollow, wide and glossy, not really seeing. Lassiter stepped closer, extending his hand again, as Shawn's legs looked about ready to give out at any moment.

"You did the right thing Spencer. He was going to kill us. You did a good thing."

"I…" His voice trembled and he bit his lip, eyes wanting to steal back over. "I killed him."

"I know." Lassiter murmured, voice soft and understanding. "I know."

"I _killed_ him." Shawn whimpered, glassy eyes swimming.

"You did what you had to." Lassiter inched closer, his hand hovering over Shawn's shoulder.

"I've never…" Tears spilled over his red-rimmed eyes, running freely down his cheeks.

Lassiter wrapped his arms around him, pulling him against his chest. "I know. I know you haven't."

He buried his face in Shawn's hair. Protocol said he should check the body and clear any weapons. Decorum dictated he hold on until Shawn was in a little better state. In the end, decorum won out.

The sound of footsteps outside brought him to attention as he snatched the gun from its holster, pointing it at the door. A darkly dressed man cleared the room, immediately bringing his gun to train on Shawn and Lassiter. He froze a moment, glancing at the body, and again at them. In confusion, Lassiter lowered his gun. The man checked the body quickly, kicking the gun clear and turning back to them with an understanding look.

"Mr. Spencer." He spoke carefully, watching the younger man twitch.

"Creeper." Shawn gave a wet, dead chuckle. "You're late to the party."

Lassiter tensed, tightening his grip on Shawn. "Lars Ewing. I didn't know you got transferred to serial killers."

"I apologize for not informing your department of the case. Until we ruled Mr. Spencer out as a suspect, we couldn't risk involving you." He holstered his gun.

"So involving Declan and Luntz was fine?" He hissed.

"It was necessary. They had past experience with him, the negotiation skills, and the observation skills we needed."

"To what?" Lassiter snarled. "Waste your time stalking him and playing dress up as a wrinkled old man while we did the real work?"

Shawn sniffled a bit, drawing both of their attention. Lassiter re-holstered his gun for a second time and wrapped his arm back around Shawn, unashamed. Ewing grimaced and glanced at the body again. It didn't take a genius to see what had happened.

"We'll talk later. I should wait outside for your backup." He stepped back out, quickly.

Lassiter could tell he hadn't gone far though, waiting just outside, where he could hear them.

Shawn made a soft, choking sound in acknowledgment of his leaving. Lassiter closed his eyes, rubbing soft circles at Shawn's back.

"It's alright."

"How did you handle it?" Shawn whispered against his shoulder.

"Handle what?" He asked tenderly, knowing Shawn had to say it out loud.

"H-how did you handle…" Shawn whimpered a bit, clinging tighter and dropping his voice. "…Killing someone? For the first time?"

"I didn't." Lassiter admitted. "I threw up all over my partner's shoes."

Shawn looked up at him, eyes searching for any sign of a lie. "Why?"

"It was disgusting." Lassiter shrugged a little. "I was disgusted by what I had done. After that time, I've worked hard to never do it again. Throw up that is, but it isn't easy. I still feel it every time I pull the trigger."

"I thought you liked shooting?" It was so tentative that it had to count as a question.

"I don't regret shooting him" Lassiter told him. "He was going to kill someone, and I protected them. It's my job to protect people. And that means some people have to die. Every time I fire my gun, I remember the oath I took when I became and officer, the one I renewed the first time I shot a criminal."

"I p-probably look stupid _*hic* _crying like this." Shawn wiped his eyes on Lassiter's shirt, not wanting to let go.

"_No_." Lassiter spoke firmly. "You don't. It's alright to cry. It's no worse than throwing up. It's better than feeling nothing."

"B-but…" Shawn made to look back at the man and Lassiter caught the back of his head.

Gently, he threaded his fingers through Shawn's hair, forcing him to keep looking at him. "Listen to me Shawn. You haven't done anything wrong. Not then, and not now."

"Y-you called me Shawn."

"Yeah. I did. You got a problem with that?" Lassiter smiled.

"No…Carlton."

Lassiter grimaced, pulling back a bit. "Don't bother. You're the only one who gets to call me 'Lassie'. Let's just keep it that way."

A spark of something re-light in Shawn's eyes, a faint touch of what they had held just a few moments before. A second later, Shawn gripped tight at the front of Lassiter's jacket, hiding his face in his hands and the fabric and finally allowing himself to sob. Lassiter let out a soft sigh, one hand rubbing at the small of Shawn's back, the other carding through his hair.

He heard the sound of more footsteps, but the soft cadence of sirens let him keep his shoulders loose. A sharp gasp caught his attention and he glanced over to see O'Hara and McNab clearing the door and pointing their guns at the body. They took a few more, tentative steps in, still staring, not having bothered to look up at them. Shawn made as though he was going to pull away, and Lassiter tightened his grip.

He was only mildly surprised to see Gus and Henry clear the door next, before the uniformed officers could make their way in. True to training, Henry cleared the room and eyed the body as he entered. Guster's eyes fell straight to them, and he was running across the room with out any idea of if it was safe.

"Shawn! Oh my God are you okay?" Gus drew up short, eyes wide and filled with horror.

That drew the attention of the three trained officers in the room. O'Hara tensed, holstering her gun and eyes roving over Shawn. Buzz holstered his gun and immediately ran interference, heading back out the door and informing them no one but CSI should go in there now. Henry froze, eyes darting between the body and Shawn as he pieced together exactly what happened.

"Are you okay Shawn?" Juliet rushed over. "You didn't get hurt did you?"

"Is it the body?" Gus asked when Shawn whimpered, burrowing closer to Lassiter. "It must have been terrible to see that happen."

"Detective Lassiter." Henry growled, storming over, though he couldn't hide the concern in his eyes. "Where is your secondary firearm?"

Lassiter shut his eyes, gripping Shawn a bit tighter. "There's a holster in the small of my back."

"You'll have to hand it over to forensics." Henry nodded. "Shawn…"

Shawn looked up a bit, red eyes staring at his father. "Y-yeah?"

"You're gonna need your hands swabbed." He told him calmly. "That's just how this works."

"O-oh. Okay." Shawn nodded, and returned his face to Lassiter's chest.

"Why would Shawn need his hands swabbed?" Gus asked, voice cracking, trying and failing to pretend that what he already knew wasn't the truth.

O'Hara looked devastated, eyes widening and hands trembling. "Oh Shawn."

Lassiter fixed them with a pointed look, not glaring, but warning. Lightly, he lowered both his hands to Shawn's waist. Slowly, taking the look in heed, Gus reached out and put his hand on Shawn's shoulder. After a slow shudder, he relaxed and Jules reached out and placed her hand on his other shoulder. He was prepared for it that time and didn't tense under her palm.

"We're here Shawn." Gus whispered, squeezing gently.

"You did good." Jules agreed, mimicking the movement.

Shawn tensed, unsuccessfully trying to draw Lassiter closer. "Lassie…"

"Relax Shawn." He spoke the loudest he had since the bullets were fired. "It's over now."

… .. .

The reports took forever. They were cross examined and repeatedly questioned. Because they weren't allowed to stay together for it, Lassiter asked Henry to stay with Shawn. He didn't need to ask. After a few hours of re-repeating the same things over and over he was allowed to leave, though he wasn't getting his firearms back for a while. In the bullpen, Ewing perched against Lassiter's desk. Luntz propped himself against the wall and Declan was seated on the floor.

"How is he?" He asked immediately, staring up at Lassiter.

"Bad."

"He's not the type." Luntz grimaced. "We should have caught him before it came to that."

"Shawn has a real bad habit of managing to get there faster." Lassiter shrugged, eyeing the cup of coffee he had grabbed and not bothered drinking.

"Because of his status as an official police consultant, this will all be in the department." Ewing pointed out. "He'll receive a commendation."

"You really think that's what he needs?" Lassiter growled. "If you hadn't been stepping on my toes and had just told us about your suspicions we could have helped. Instead, you go undercover and start stalking Shawn."

Declan and Luntz winced, looking away. Ewing stared at him unapologetically. They both missed Chief Vick approaching them. She cleared her throat, a look of disgust on her face as she regarded the special agent lounging in her precinct.

"You're free to leave detective." She informed Lassiter. "And _you_ can get the hell out if you're done with your paperwork for tonight."

Ewing broke eye contact first, unwillingly admitting defeat to the cold, angry eyes in front of him. "Alright then. My work should be done for now."

Lassiter watched them man go before he responded. "I'm waiting on Shawn."

She paused at the use of his first name, and then nodded. "He's in interview room three."

"Thanks." Lassiter turned to head down immediately and Vick caught his arm.

"I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to put you on a temporary suspension until we finish the investigation. Shawn's in the same boat." She sounded apologetic, but she had her job to do.

Lassiter nodded once. "I know. One week, tops."

"Take care of him, Detective." She let him go.

Walking down to the interview room, he was reminded of the horrors dealing with Yin and Yang. People stepped away from him, wide eyed and silent, waiting. For what, he had no clue. He never did figure out what everyone was always waiting for. Maybe for him to freak out and start attacking people. Maybe for him to breakdown and curl up in the fetal position. Maybe they didn't even know.

He stepped into the observation room, nodding once to the officer watching through the glass. Shawn was sitting at the table, hands flat on the surface, face drawn and pale. Henry stood in the corner, equally pale and carefully not looking at Shawn. The officer seated at the table was writing something down, looking a little light himself. A female officer walked in and whispered something to the interrogating officer. The man nodded and she left, casting one soft look at Shawn.

"Alright Mr. Spencer…" The man coughed lightly when they both looked at him. "It seems Detective Lassiter has corroborated your story in full."

"In full?" Henry asked incredulously.

"Yes Sir." The man nodded enthusiastically, then turned back to Shawn. "His placement of your visions and the content of each one, the discussion that led up to you being threatened with your life, and your using the pretense of hugging him to draw his weapon when he couldn't lower his hands to grab it are all consistent with yours. A little more professional, but accurate."

Lassiter felt his heart race a bit. He had been right about what Shawn would say. Faced with the prisoner's dilemma, and neither of them had batted an eye, doubting what the other would say. It was a little terrifying, and embarrassing. Sure no one else would know Shawn hadn't done exactly what they both said, faked or not, but Shawn knew he had lied to cover for him.

The fleeting, embarrassed look that crossed Shawn's face told Lassie that Shawn had doubted him though. The man was saying something about being done there, but didn't leave. The officer standing in the room with Lassiter nodded once and headed out into the hall. The officer in with Shawn straightened his papers, not looking at Shawn.

"You know…" He said hesitantly, eyes trained on the door. "My first time, I couldn't decided if I wanted to cry or throw up…so I ended up doing both. Detective Lassiter patted me on the back and told me I did a good job."

Shawn looked up in surprise and Henry glanced over carefully. Lassiter frowned, trying to remember that, and only minutely recalling the incident. With a embarrassed, understanding glance at Shawn, the man hurried out of the room. Shawn sank down in his chair, looking deflated. Henry hesitated from where he was standing, wanting to go over, but not really sure how.

"This is why I arrested you for stealing my car." He finally said, earning a surprised sound, but no look. "Because I realized you would have to go through this someday if you were an officer."

Shawn made a soft sound, similar to a sob. "I guess I'm just a disappointment in that regard too. How bad was I that you knew I'd be a pathetic mess when I was a teenager?"

Now Henry did move, placing a hand on Shawn's shoulder. Shawn glanced up in surprise, caught off guard by the hurt, caring look on his father's face. Slowly, as if he weren't sure how to do it, he leaned down and wrapped his arms around Shawn. The younger man hesitated, frozen by the unfamiliar action.

Henry's voice was rough. "I cried too. I cried too Shawn."

Lassiter turned from the window, heading out rather than watch Shawn wrap his arms around his father and cry. They deserved their privacy.

… .. .

Once he was sure he wouldn't be walking out into the bull pen looking like he had just spent the last few hours crying, Shawn was ready to face the looks he was sure he was going to receive. His dad had made himself scarce, giving him a little alone time to ready himself. To his surprise, no one really gave him special notice. There were nods, and quick calls telling him he did a good job, but it felt no different than solving any other case.

He was grateful, but something was missing.

Buzz clapped him on the shoulder, offering a little smile. "I cried my first time."

Shawn almost laughed. There. That was just about perfect. Buzz smiled at him a little wider and headed off to do his work. Juliet approached him, hugging him quickly.

"I threw up and spent my entire suspension during the investigation eating cookie dough ice cream." She gave him a conspiratorial little wink, like it was all some big secret.

"Thanks." Shawn whispered and she nodded and left.

"Uh…Shawn." Gus stood awkwardly a short distance away, arms behind his back, shifting back and forth on his feet.

"Hey Gus." Shawn grinned, opening his arms wide. "Haven't you heard? I'm an awesome criminal!"

Gus sighed, revealing a couple bags and shoving them in Shawn's arms. "Pineapple ice cream and the entire box set of Explosion Gigantesca de Romance. Just in case."

Shawn took the bags and wrapped his free arm around Gus. "Thanks buddy. You aren't going to start looking at me weird now, are you?"

"Shawn." Gus said seriously. "I always look at you weird."

"Thanks man." Shawn grinned. "You're the best."

"Uh huh. You know it." They bumped fists, and Gus backed away.

Shawn turned to where his friend's eyes had drifted, and caught sight of Lassiter. The head detective was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching Shawn with half lidded eyes. He stifled a little yawn, and nodded to Shawn. The young psychic was a little surprised that he could be tired, after all that.

"Go." Gus insisted, pushing at his shoulder. "He's been waiting."

Shawn nodded, feeling a little out of place. It seemed like nothing was the same anymore. Gus was supposed to be the one taking him home. Or to Psych, at least. They were supposed to be celebrating another job well done, with another bad guy behind bars. They were supposed to be wearing their white cowboy hats and eating pineapple ice cream and having a John Wayne marathon.

Now he was walking with Lassiter to his car, quietly avoiding eye contact.

Lassiter allowed the silence. He didn't try touching Shawn, and didn't bother speaking to fill the quiet discomfort. He simply drove, content to head where he was going to and let Shawn think. It wasn't until they had been driving for a few minutes that Shawn realized where they were headed. He blinked in surprise a bit, and turned to Lassiter, who inclined his head to show he knew he was being watched.

"Why are we going to your place?"

Lassiter shifted in his seat a bit, not uncomfortable, but settling in for an awkward discussion. "You won't want to be alone tonight."

Shawn sighed, glancing away. "Being alone doesn't sound too bad right now."

"If that's what you want…" Lassiter shrugged. "Then you're free to be alone in the guest room."

Shawn smiled a little and fell back into silence. Lassiter pulled up in his driveway and climbed out, hesitating a moment before locking the car. It was just long enough to let Shawn out. Shawn watched as he opened his front door and, instinctually, cleared the room before stepping in. Something eased inside his chest, that he hadn't even known was tense.

He shoved the bag of ice cream in the freezer and quietly he headed to his room.

"I'll be in my room if you need me." Lassiter informed him, not bothering to cover his yawn this time.

Shawn nodded and closed the door, shutting himself in. It was his room. His. At some point, he and Lassiter were going to have to discuss what was going on between them. Hands shaking, he changed into his SpongeBob pants and his applejacks shirt. When he closed his eyes, he got a clear picture of the crime scene, and gritted his teeth, refusing to give in to the feelings of disgust and shame that bubbled in his chest.

He was stronger than that. He had done what was right. There was no information overload. He didn't need to analyze it and look for clues. He didn't have to prove anything. It wasn't anything like the other crime scenes he had seen.

With a force of will, he pushed it from his mind and shut off the light. Crawling into bed, he shivered. He'd never really believed in ghosts. At that moment, he honestly felt like he wasn't alone, as though a thousand eyes were watching him from the darkness, waiting. He bit his lip, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the way his skin raised in alarm. There was no one there.

There was no one there.

Lassiter flicked the lamp by his bed on, calling for Shawn to come in. He wasn't surprised by what he saw. Shawn was pale, shaking a little. He could see the goosebumps from where he was. Sighing at the inevitable, he scooted to one side in his bed and folded the blanket down.

The little relived look Shawn flashed him caused a dull ach in his chest. Said brunette scrambled into the bed, settling himself in almost immediately. Lassiter flicked the light back off and waited. Three seconds was all it took for Shawn to cuddle up against him, trying not to make a soft sound of fear. With a sigh, he pulled the younger man up against his side and kept his arm at his waist. Shawn lowered his head on the older detective's chest, tense.

"Good night Shawn."

"Night Lassie."

He couldn't explain it, but he suddenly felt a dozen times safer. No longer afraid, and no longer having to keep himself alert, Shawn found he was a lot more tired than he had originally believed. If he hadn't been in the process of falling asleep, he'd have been making some kind of joke about their sleeping arrangement or feeling awkward about it. Instead, he yawned and wiggled himself into a more comfortable position.

A sleepy thought crossed his mind. "Lassie?"

There was a moment of silence and then an acknowledging hum.

"Could you sleep?" He wasn't sure, as soon as he asked it, if he had any right to know.

"Eventually. It helped that Victoria was there." Lassiter admitted, yawning.

"Oh." Shawn nodded.

They fell back into silence, and Shawn allowed himself to be lulled by the steady rise and fall of the chest below him. Eventually, the paranoia would fade, but until then he was going to accept whatever it was Lassiter was offering him. He knew, without a doubt, that running wouldn't help. His dad had made that very clear, telling him that this would chase him wherever he went. So he would face it. And he wouldn't be facing it alone.

It was strange, that after the week he had just had, he felt a sense of relief. Without further thoughts on the matter he drifted off to sleep. He could worry about what Lassiter _was _offering and how he should deal with it later. Now, he slept.

… … .. . .. … …

**And that's the wrap up of the case.**

**For those of you who guessed the FBI agent from Psy vs. Psy was creeper, congratulations, you were right. Feel free to gloat, laugh, or send requests for a one-shot Psych story...not that I can actually stop any of you from doing that…or care to…oh whatever.**

**The next chapter is going to be the last. Thanks so much, all of you, for sticking with me through this entire thing.**


	20. Chapter 20

…**Still not owning. **

… … .. . .. … …

Lassiter wasn't all that surprised to wake up alone. Something told him he'd be seeing Shawn before the end of the day.

… .. .

"Dude! Not cool!" Shawn cawed, rubbing gingerly at the forming lump behind his ear.

Gus huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, pharmaceutical bag still in his hand. "What were you thinking Shawn?"

"Ow, ow, ow…I was checking on you." He whined, collapsing onto the couch and glaring up at him. "You don't have to be a…uh…a…something totally not cool."

"Creative, Shawn."

"You hit me on the head." The psychic replied grumpily. "It kind of makes a good comeback hard to think of."

"You snuck into my house." Gus reiterated for the fourth time. "Now, of all times. When we just got done dealing with that creep. Why would that be a good idea, Shawn?"

Shawn sighed, kicking the coffee table lightly and shoving his hands in his pockets. "I know…I know. That's why I came to check up on you. I…kept imagining the guy was still alive and knew where you live. It was pretty freaky."

"Shawn." Gus frowned, sitting down next to him. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Who me?" He laughed. "Yeah. I'm going to be great. So since you're up, want to go for breakfast?"

"No Shawn. I want sleep. I was up all last night. If you want food, go cook something."

"Oh…okay." Shawn stood and headed for the kitchen. "So…"

"So?"

"I was thinking, what would you think if I gay married Lassie?"

"What! Why? No. Don't even." Gus leapt to his feet, hysterical look on his face.

"So I can't be in a relationship with Lassie?" Shawn leaned back into the living room, pouting.

"What? No. I didn't say that. What are you even thinking Shawn?" Gus was clearly flustered, staring at the other man in astonishment.

Shawn shrugged, heading into the kitchen. Gus gawked after him a moment before quickly following. The pesky brunette was retrieving the things for Hawaiian pancakes. He just offered a smile at the horrified, demanding look his best friend was giving him. Finally, Gus set his bag down and flopped into a chair.

"Fine. I'll eat breakfast with you Shawn. Now what was that just about?"

Shawn beamed. "Oh. Okay. Well. This is the weird thing. Lassie totally took me home last night. Turns out he was right and I ended up not wanting to be alone, so…I slept with him."

Chair: 1. Gus: 0. The actual score was probably entirely different, but that was a nice start for the morning. Gus had tipped out of his chair, crashing to the ground, hooking his foot on the edge, and bringing the chair over on top of him. There was possible interference on the table's part but it evened out since it caught the chair part way though it's tip _and_ caught the back of Gus' head with its leg. Shawn put down the ingredients in his hand and knelt down, tipping his head to the side to get a good view of his unfortunate friend.

"Y-y-you had…SEX with him?" Gus squeaked the word, voice reaching an impressively high pitch.

"No!" Shawn yelped, turning crimson. "God! Gus. I _slept_. **Slept**. That's all we did. We were just…we just shared a bed. God, Gus. No!"

Gus flushed, righting himself. "I'm sorry if your statement left a little AMBIGUITY Shawn! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

Shawn blinked, looking away in embarrassment. "I shot a guy."

"No. Hell no. You only get to play that card a few times and not on something like this. _This_ has been a problem for a while."

"Gus…" Shawn whined. "Please. I could really use blaming it on the panic."

"How does that help anything?" Gus whined back.

"I don't know." Shawn threw his hands up in the air and returned to cooking. "I just…god this is crazy. I don't even have a movie reference for this! I…I don't like Lassie like that. Or…I don't think I do. I mean, I like flirting with him, but I like flirting with everyone. And I only stayed in his room last night because I was having a freak-out. So…I don't…right? Right."

"Okay. Okay. So…what?"

"I don't know." Shawn admitted, defeated look on his face.

Gus sighed, rubbing at his eyes. It was way too early for The Shawn-Rollercoaster. At this point, he was expecting to get a post card form Toad Suck Arkansas or Yazoo Mississippi in a month. He always did have an affinity for finding the weirdest named places. They waited in silence a moment as they both considered what to say next.

Finally, Shawn turned around and set the finished pancakes down. "I think I want to stay with Psych."

Gus blinked, fork halfway to his mouth. "You aren't running off?"

Shawn winced. "No. I'm not. I actually like what I've got going on."

"Good." He replied after a stunned moment. "But you do realize you'll have to talk this out with Lassiter, don't you?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Easy."

"And your dad."

He flinched, but continued to eat his pancakes as if Gus hadn't just said that. "Not as easy…but I can do it."

… .. .

"What the hell are you carrying?" Lassiter growled in annoyance, stepping sideways to let Shawn back into his house.

Said brunette psychic grinned shuffling the posters and various knickknacks in his hands into a better position. "Just some stuff for my room."

"Your room?" Lassiter scowled, folding his arms over his chest, pointedly not helping.

"Well you said it was my room." Shawn insisted. "And if you expect me to ever visit than it needs posters and distilled awesome."

"Distilled…never mind. Are you planning on visiting often?"

Shawn sighed setting his things down on the couch. "I guess that depends on what we're doing here."

Lassiter tensed, edging towards the perimeter of the room. Shawn crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the couch. An awkward silence sat between them, as neither was quite sure what to say. They'd been dancing around the subject for a week. When the blue eyed detective found a comfortable place on the wall to lean on and keep an eye on Shawn, they both fixed each other with standoffish looks.

"Okay. So what is going on here?" Lassiter broke the silence.

"Well…" Shawn hummed in singsong. "I just don't think I can do long term, but I am up for making out at your desk if my dad's sitting at his. That'd freak him out."

Lassie grimaced. "No. Just…no."

"Not an exhibitionist?" He grinned, earning a filthy look.

"You aren't on my list to repopulate the earth with." Lassiter said flatly, eyes narrowed.

"Of course not." Shawn rolled his eyes, waving his arms a bit for show. "Boys can't have babies together silly."

"You're missing the point."

"That you failed high school sex-ed?"

"That I'm not interested in you." Lassiter frowned. "Well…not like that."

"Wait." Shawn straightened, eyes widening. "How _are_ you interested in me?"

"We both know you're a fraud." Shawn groaned loudly over him, but he continued. "So I want to know how you do what you do."

Shawn's face lit up. "Oh really? Because I'm still pretty sure I'm psychic. I am also just awesome though. Why, if I were to ever lose my psychic powers I'm sure I would be just as awesome a detective as I am now. Don't you think?"

"I think if you are psychic you cheated on your detective exam."

"Lassie! I'm ashamed of you!" Shawn grinned, sashaying across the room. "You should know I'm much better than that."

Lassiter gulped, eyeing the brunette who was very surely in his personal space. "Trust me. I know."

Shawn licked his lips, leaning in a bit closer. "You aren't uncomfortable, are you?"

"Yes. I am." Damned if that didn't take all his police training and every ounce of bullet-built courage to admit.

The fake psychic stopped at the admission. Lassiter stared at Shawn, who blinked up at him in surprise. There were a scant few inches between them. Slowly, smirking, Shawn reached his arms out and wrapped them around Lassiter's neck. He flinched, shutting his eyes and taking a very deep breath.

"Last time you were this close to me while we were standing, we had a gun pointed at us." Lassiter reminded him.

Shawn tensed up immediately, scowling. "You're being a sour skittle Lassie."

"You're intentionally antagonizing me, Shawn." Lassiter opened his eyes.

A simpering grin spread across the younger man's face. "Why would I do that?"

"Because…" Lassiter glanced down at his grin before flicking his eyes back up to meet Shawn's. "You like antagonizing me. You aren't going to stop antagonizing me. I should be trying to get you out of my hair, not keep you in it. You realize that, right?"

Shawn tilted his head to the side. "You should admit you like me."

"I don't."

"I have to go Lassie. You should tell me now." Shawn purred, snaking one hand up into Lassiter's hair and watching the vein on his temple jump.

"And just where are you off to now?" He sighed, eyes falling to the forgotten pile on the couch.

"I have to tell my dad the good news. He'll be thrilled to know I'm not running away this time."

Lassiter grimaced. "Do you have to bring me into this?"

"Yes. Yes I do." He chuckled, patting Lassie's chest. "I'll be back so you can whisper sweet nothings to me all night."

"Go away."

… .. .

"Why do people keep barging into my house?" Lassiter sighed, once again vacating the doorway so Declan, Luntz, and O'Hara could enter his house.

They came bearing pineapples. All in all, it was beginning to feel like a circus. Not two minutes into explaining that Shawn was out speaking to his father, Gus arrived under the pretense of Shawn texting him saying it was an emergency. Five minutes later, Shawn returned, looking very pale. When he recognized the three other members of the congregation, he narrowed an evil glare at Jules.

"I've changed my mind. I'm moving to somewhere tropical and lacking phones." Shawn growled flopping down on the couch.

"What?" Gus yelped, jumping to his feet. "What happened.?"

"Jules happened! And Buzz." Shawn shot another accusing glare at her.

"What did I do?" She frowned.

"My _dad_ heard those stupid rumors around the precinct." Shawn whined, earning horrified looks from Gus, Jules, and Declan. "And worst of all, he approves!"

"What rumors?" Luntz asked, completely confused.

"Wait, I've been in the precinct one day and I've already caught something you didn't?" Declan asked incredulously. "They're the same observations I was making during the stakeouts."

"Seriously?" Luntz glanced at Shawn in surprise. "You're joking."

"God I wish!" Shawn groaned.

"Um…at least he approves?" Gus tried to be positive and only succeeded in irking his friend more. "Did you explain to him it wasn't…well, you know?"

"I tried. He said it was about time I figured it out!" Shawn was beet red, resting his face in his hands.

"I'm not to blame for this!" Juliet insisted. "…Wait…are you saying your not…?"

"Of course not!" Shawn glowered at her. "It wasn't…I can't believe anyone actually though otherwise!"

"You have to admit." Luntz frowned. "It was pretty convincing watching you two together."

"Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Lassiter snapped, turning all eyes in the room to him.

Gus raised his hands in defense instinctually, pointing one finger at Luntz. Luntz flinched, jabbing his thumb in Declan's direction. Declan immediately tilted his hands to the side to present Juliet. Jules fixed them all with thoroughly unimpressed looks before glancing at Shawn. Shawn grimaced.

"Dude. I already kind of told you, didn't I? Everyone thinks we're sleeping together."

Lassiter froze, horrified look on his face. "You can't be serious."

"Yup."

He took a very deep breath, trigger finger itching for something to pull because he desperately wanted to shoot someone. "Why the hell would anyone think we were involved?"

"Buzz saw us being friendly and things got blown out of proportion, I guess." Shawn shrugged, glancing at Jules, who nodded dumbly.

"Is that why you've been acting like this lately? To perpetuate the rumors and exacerbate matters?"

"I'm pretty sure that is an inappropriate word." Shawn dodged the question.

"I means to make worse." Gus offered helpfully.

"Spencer." Lassiter growled.

Shawn offered up his best puppy dog eyes. "You aren't calling me Shawn anymore? After everything we've been through?"

"Answer my question."

Shawn sighed. "Some of it was?"

"You don't sound so sure." Declan pointed out, quieting immediately when everyone glared at him.

"If only some was, than what wasn't?" Lassiter asked seriously.

"Uh…not really sure. Some of it was just to mess with you though…like the dates."

"They weren't dates."

"Yeah they were." Luntz and Declan informed him helpfully.

"Okay, you know what? You can get out of here." Lassiter growled angrily, pointing to the front door and sneering at them.

They shut up.

"Look we already went over this. We have fun solving cases with each other and getting on each other's nerves. Why does anything about that have to change?" Shawn sighed, folding his arms protectively across his chest and shifting his gaze to the floor.

"Because you kissed me Shawn." Lassiter fixed his blue eyes on the other man, ignoring the shocked looks on everyone's faces.

"On the cheek!" Shawn yelped. "Will you never let me live that down?"

"This morning we tried normal and you proceeded to put your hands all over me." He said accusingly.

"That is normal!"

"Only when you're faking your little episodes."

"I'm a real psychic! Don't bring that into this." Shawn huffed, puffing out his cheeks.

"You kissed him!" Gus yelped, having finally restarted his brain.

"I was trying to hand cuff him to the bed…" Shawn paused, realizing how horrible that sounded. "So I could leave. It was right before we left last night."

"So you kissed him?" Declan repeated.

"I was trying to distract him." Shawn defended himself, flushing deeply.

"Did it work?" Luntz asked, promptly shutting his mouth when Lassiter scoffed at him.

"Obviously not." Shawn rolled his eyes. "I smell pineapple. Can we have pineapple?"

"You're deflecting." Gus pointed out.

"Which means everything's back to normal. Can we please have pineapple now?" Shawn whimpered.

With an exasperated sigh, the discussion was officially sidelined. The impromptu pineapple lunch party was awkward to say the least. No discussion was made of the shooting and Declan and Luntz kept apologizing for effectively stalking Shawn. About the sixth time he threw a pineapple at one of them and officially started the food fight.

Lassiter was not amused.

When they finally cleaned up, he kicked them out of his house, leaving just him, Shawn, and Gus behind.

"You know…"Gus turned from where he was placing a new trash bag in the bin. "I…I think I _could_ get behind this, if you do want a relationship with him."

Shawn almost dropped the mop in his hands, hurriedly glancing down the hall to ensure Lassiter was still in his room changing out of his pineapple coated shirt. "What is wrong with you?"

"I'm serious Shawn." Gus made to wipe down a counter again, but only set his hands heavily on the counter, facing away from his best friend. "You don't just stay in this city for anything."

Shawn froze, fixing Gus' back with a horrified stare. "Gus…you don't think I'm…I mean, are you jealous? Is that is? Because you'll always be my best friend."

"I know, Shawn. I know." Gus sighed, turning to face him. "But you have to admit, he must have done something to get you to stay."

He tried not to feel insulted, but there was just a touch of accusation in that tone that rubbed him wrong. "You're right. He did do something to keep me here."

"What?" Gus asked in surprise, caught off guard by the rough timber of his friend's voice.

"He asked me what he _could_ do." Shawn glowered, returning to his mopping.

Gus took the hint. "I should go now. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" And when he received no response. "You know, I never tried to make you stay, because I thought it would make you happy. I didn't want to force you into something you didn't want, like you're dad had been doing your entire life. Even though I was stuck being alone because you were off elsewhere, I took your happiness into consideration."

"I know, Gus." Shawn whispered, watching his friend collect his coat and leave. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Gus sighed, hand on the front door. "If I'd tried to keep you here, you'd have never come back. You just need something different now. We can't be each other's only friends anymore."

"Yeah." Shawn smiled weakly, well aware that Lassiter was hiding in the hallway. "I'll see you tomorrow Gus."

Shawn waited until he left to turn around and fix Lassiter with a wholly disapproving glare. In return, the head detective crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the hall wall, looking unimpressed.

"You shouldn't be eavesdropping." Shawn scolded.

"You're in my house." Lassiter reminded him. "And I wasn't listening that long anyway."

"Because that makes it so much better?"

"Is everyone at the precinct really convinced we're sleeping together?"

Shawn groaned, dropping his shoulders. "I don't know how many of them believe it, just that most of them have heard the rumors. Including the chief."

"That explains a lot." Lassiter rubbed his face tiredly.

"I'm kind of exhausted, can I crash in the guest room for a while?"

Lassiter sighed gesturing to the hall. "Fine. I'll wake you up for dinner."

Shawn grinned, pausing as he walked past him. "Careful Lassie, I could get used to this."

"Just make sure you stick around long enough to." Carlton smirked down at him.

"Guess what."

"Don't think I won't shoot you."

Shawn beamed up at him. "It only took one week."

Lassiter laughed, shaking his head. "You astound me. Did you know that?"

"I had an idea." Shawn admitted, leaning in to place a swift kiss on Lassiter's lips.

Hurriedly, he headed into the guest room and shut the door. Lassiter stared after him in a mix of wonder, amusement, and utter annoyance. Somehow, this didn't seem all that different from what they already had going. And if that was the case, well…he could get use to it too.

Shawn flopped back on the bed with a blush, smiling. So maybe things weren't exactly normal. And maybe he'd keep exploring his options. But really, where was the harm in that? He never had been one for any definition of normal. Besides, if his work with Jules was anything to go by, he and Lassie could always stay friends. Or as much as friends as they've ever been.

But that was always the _second_ option, wasn't it?

… .. .

Three weeks later, Shawn was flopping about the precinct with all his usual pomp and circumstance. Lassiter rolled his eyes, shoving the younger man off of his desk and getting to work. Gus gave him a knowing look, shaking his head.

The rumors had effectively died down.

That didn't mean Shawn didn't still visit Lassie. After all, how could there be distilled awesome in his room if he wasn't there?

Any stolen kisses were purely incidental and completely unofficial.

… … .. . .. … …

**I'll admit this final chapter was a bit short. Hopefully that doesn't make it any less satisfying.**

**Shawn seems the type, to me, to end up in a serious-unofficial relationship. Lassie seems the type to completely deny its existence.**

**It was a bit difficult writing this chapter because, frankly, I wasn't sure how to do it. I'm still not convinced that it came out right. The feel I was going for just isn't there, which is a shame. Maybe I'll rewrite it sometime, or post a different version as an alternate ending, but for all intents and purposes, this is it. It's all done now. I think the hardest part of ending this is that there's always more to tell.**

**I'm a bit embarrassed to say this is the first time I've ever finished a multi-chapter fic. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did and aren't anywhere near as disappointed in this chapter as I am.**


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